Getting old (from an outside perspective)

I had a (somewhat) long and rough week. I was having dinner with my wife, and suddenly we got a call from her mom saying her dad needed to go to the hospital.

We immediately wrapped up our dinner and went straight to my in-laws to pick them up. Fortunately, the hospital is quite close, so that an ambulance won’t be necessary. My father-in-law is having a prostate problem and needs a catheter.

It was the first time I felt another kind of “weird” going to the emergency room. In previous circumstances, it could be that my wife broke her wrist, or a friend got food poisoning, some checks here and there, medicines, and we were good to go. Sometimes we can even crack light jokes about it to lighten up the mood.

One time I accompanied my mom to get treatment for her bad flu. Other times, my dad had vertigo.

But hearing my dad-in-law screaming in pain presented a new feeling that I’ve never felt before. Seeing my wife in tears and praying in such a way… that… I don’t know; I’ve never felt it before.

Anniversary celebration cut short

My wife and I planned a short one-day getaway to a nice villa in Sentul, Bogor. The plan was to swim, cook some burgers and BBQ, then have a nice time chatting on the rooftop. At this point, we knew that her dad was scheduled for surgery. But the family was insistent that we go and have a nice little celebration of our third year in marriage.

Just as we finished dinner, I told my wife to check on her brother, who was accompanying her dad in the hospital. The surgery went (somewhat) fine, but my dad-in-law was so afraid that his heart rate spiked and he needed to be brought to the ICU.

My wife cried, apologized, and asked that we go back immediately. I remembered I only said, “There’s nothing more important than this (seeing Dad).”

So at about 10 p.m., we rushed back home, got into the hospital, and gathered with her family, not knowing what was currently happening in the ICU. The whole family was there, and we fell asleep in my dad-in-law’s ward. No updates whatsoever; I fell asleep on the floor until about 3 a.m. We went home.

It was a huge sigh of relief when we got the news that my dad-in-law was okay. We went back to the hospital, and there he was, fit and strong again. And just yesterday, I accompanied him and my mom-in-law to his regular check-up.

I was glad that we got the outcome that we wanted: my father-in-law’s slow but sure recovery. But the “new” feeling remains carved deep in my heart. I thought to myself, “So this is what it feels like to see your direct parents going through all this major hospital fiasco.”

And as any parent, getting old and having regular trips to the hospital, we started talking about “when the day came”: what my wife and I should do, unfinished tasks, getting everybody in check, all sorts of stuff that is discussed the moment a parent dies.

All these conversations about death are… I don’t know, man… In my brain, I know the day would come; our parents will leave this world. I’ve buried my aunt, helped with all things related to administration. But when it comes to my parents (and in-laws), my heart is just not ready.