4th November

It was 4th November 10+Pm when we arrived at the airport waiting for my Dad and stepmother to arrive. We spent the time waiting talking and joking and little did we expect what was going to happen. We did expect him to be wheeled out to an ambulance if his condition is real bad but we did not expect him to die upon arriving. When I saw he was being wheeled his mouth wide open and looking lifeless, I was speechless. I went to him, I touch his skin, it was cool, the staff told me there's still pulse, I tried but it was very faint, very very faint. A part of me told me he's as good as gone, a part of me was in denial as I took out my phone to call for the ambulance. I started to panic after I realized he was not breathing, I was lost, my nursing skills all just disappear just like that. I called up the SCDF again, "He is not breathing! how long you'll reach here?" The SCDF told me if there is pulse I cannot proceed with CPR, I felt his pulse, very faint at the same time the part of me that is in denial felt it there, as though he is still alive. When the ambulance arrived, he is gone, there is nothing I could do but hope for miracles to happen as I see them preparing the defibrillator and oxygen. Tears start to well up but I tried to stay calm giving the SCDF as much information as possible. In the ambulance, all along the way I was thinking what I could've done and why is this happening.

At the hospital was the most painful moments of my life, watching my father go. The drugs and infusion the emergency staff gave him helped revive him but I can see the fluctuation of his pulse, which is no good. I was shaken, I felt weak but a part of me still not giving up hope yet. It pains me more to see my aunt, my grandma and all in tears, it pains me more to see her pray to God asking Him to save my father at the same time thanking him that He brought back her son although in this condition.

They gave the transfusion shortly, it was already 5th of November, around 1am. His pulse showed 70bpm on the monitor. I know it was temporary but I was in a state of denial, I was relieved for a moment and that was stupid of me because it only pulled me down harder when he finally go. Still in disbelief, I stroked his cold hands as I watched my family cry. I kiss his forehead, I whispered to him in his ear, "Bapak ingat Tuhan, Allahu Akbar, mintak tolong dari dia, jangan give up, lawan..." that was the hopeful final sentences I said to him even though I knew he was already brain dead, I was hoping for miracles. The times I was outside of the e-room was spent praying countless times that God will save him.

The inevitable came at 0212hrs, he was pronounced dead. We went in everyone just cried, everyone felt the loss. As we waited for everything to settle(the paperworks and all) I spent my time alone in the room with him, looking at his face speechless, wondering what he went through on the flight, the pain and all. Remorse also filled me for not being a good son...at the same time, verses from the Quran just went mumbling through my lips in hope that he God will give him a place in heaven and save him from hell-fire.

I went home to change after his body was transported to Nenek's place. I was still in a state of disbelief, I cried at Subh' I Dua' for him in my prayers, tears I could not hold back as I read the verses, my chest aches, my head throbs. My mind was filled with disbelief, regrets and remorse. I already miss him by then. I regret not missing him as much when he was still alive.

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