It has been a very painful two weeks for him and everybody around. The last three days have been excruciatingly so. His level of pain has become unbearable for his own body. And worse for those around him who is forced to watch him writhe in agony. In the last 24 hours alone, he had three near-transition moments and each time, he pulled back. The organs are still fighting for some last gasps.

For the last two days, my brother has been trying to arrange for a hospital to take him in to see if the pain level can be brought down. And not let others see him suffer.

As of a few hours back, finally, a bed has been found. To try everything to alleviate his pain, we are going to try a Hail Mary and commence a dialysis on him to see if that gives the kidney a boost for some time.

This picture sent to me by my brother from the hospital as he was leaving is a poignant description of the moment. The curtains are closing in on him.

It is one thing to die.
It is another to suffer immeasurably while dying.
And then there is the trail of despair and helplessness watching somebody near and dear die.

It would appear that dad has stabilized a bit after coming back from the hospital. What seems to have worked wonders is realizing that he is surrounded by his grandkids. Both my nephews from Kolkata are with him and the niece, of course, is downstairs. Especially the elder nephew – who has always been very fond of grandfather – is giving him a lot of company. And the reports say that he has been busy Googling a lot of my dad’s symptoms to weigh in on the discussions that my brother has been having around the path forward.

The grandkids, in their effort to cheer up grandfather, also make video calls to me so he can talk to me.

One of the more humorous stories from today…

We were video conferencing with each other as one of the nephews held up the phone close to him when he asked…
“Kaaney tulo diye rekhechhis keno?” (We have you put cotton plugs in your ears?)
I could hear the nephews whispering “What?”
After I stopped laughing, I told them that grandfather won’t understand bluetooth or Airpods.

And then we could all hear dad continue “Taaka chaibo boley?” (Are you afraid I will ask you for money?)
All I could see is a flash of his face as he started laughing at his own joke.

And then I saw the ceiling.
Apparently, the nephews burst out laughing, were literally rolling and the phone lying somewhere on the floor after bouncing a couple of times – no doubt!

It is then that I realized that at your old age, medicine is not what the doctor really called for. It is being surrounded by your near and dear ones who you can talk to.

In an irony, they still won’t let me visit the hospices here (because of Covid)

Dad came back from the hospital. It seems that the kidneys, lungs and heart have decided to fight for some more time. Overall, he looks very tired and in pain – but relatively much less pain.