Dad is nearby

Once you picked up the phone and understand the voice of your mother: something happened. Then you come to the house where there is neither a father nor mom - both in the hospital - the dad has a stroke. The world is turning over one day

We help the Foundation for the fight against the orbi stroke help

Father fell in the morning and could not get up, his brother could not break the door of the parent bedroom. The Ministry of Emergency Situations, a broken door, an ambulance, a hospital, a crying mother, who is a major brother, and you do not know what to do with it, because your strong, ironic, unbending father is paralyzed, and more than anything you are afraid to see him powerless.

Droppers, papino skewed face, dead left hand, nurses, doctors, the smell of a hospital, a vessel, urinary receivers, catheters, a special meal for soremen. All that I can do for dad is special nutrition. This is “everything that I can” is the hardest. It is impossible to come to terms with the helplessness of a strong person. It is impossible to come to terms with their own powerlessness to change the situation.

“Zhenya, around Sveta Aura,” dad wants to smile.

“What aura, Yura, what are you saying?!” - Mom is confused.

- Yellow, Zhenya. Beautiful.

What is it, a pope muddled with a stroke, or does dad really see something? I climb into the phone - read about the yellow aura.

My dad. My support. My defense. My serene, joyful children's world - frogs, leeches, forest raspberries and hedgehogs, fishing, Pushkin’s fairy tales, an emerald handle and a red portfolio, the alphabet Morsa, the seal of photos in a dark room, Daddy's papina, for which I hold on a dark winter morning, while I go on his shoulders in a kindergarten, a blue car with a deer and a cheerful hood and a cheerful. Papin driver uncle Sasha. All my children's memories are associated with dad. I stand at the hospital bed and do not cry diligently. Dad taught never to give up. I don't give up desperately. Mom too. The world crumbles into fragments.

Dad taught never to give up. I don't give up desperately. Mom too. The world is scattered into fragments

When you come across a stroke, two things are important - information and money. Information is more important. You are never ready for diseases of loved ones. When everything happened to the dad, a hot line on a stroke has not yet opened. Now she is, they will help, they will tell you what to do, they will give specialists. And then I myself rummaged through the entire Internet and realized that the precursors of the stroke were, but it was impossible to persuade the dad to give up to doctors.

Money is no less important. They do not solve all problems, but many problems without money become unreasonable, for example, round -the -clock care and beds for bedridden patients. A bed with an electric drive for lifting the upper body and legs is needed desperately. Mom categorically does not want me to buy a bed. I return to Moscow, find the right model and send the bed with courier delivery. This is all I can do for dad. The online store will be mistaken and send the wrong model. By the time of the dad’s discharge from the hospital, the bed will wait for him - beautiful, with a wooden heading, hardships and a control panel, much better than I bought.

The owner of the online store will laugh and say that he is not ready to pay for a trip to the wrong bed back. Let it remain as it is. The dad’s control panel will have to be taken away - raising the head of the bed, he will hold a paralyzed hand and will not feel pain. Fortunately, a brother will be nearby, the bed will not have time to crush his father's hand.

With brother photo: from personal archive

“When will you leave? When will you come back? " - Two favorite daddy questions. From the moment I come to my parents, he begins to worry that I will leave. On the day of departure, he begins to wait for me to return. Waiting and gradually loses its memory. In every blonde from the television screen, he recognizes me. Mom cannot accept these changes in any way. I am easy with them - dad will not be the same, but this is my dad, he just goes further. When the memory returns to him, we chat with him just as we chatted before. He dreams of winter fishing, I convince him that as soon as he gets up, he will definitely go fishing.

- Zhenya, and my pension came?

“I came, Yuronka,” my mother perched on her father's bed. Dad has breakfast, he learned to eat himself. Mom holds a plate and stroking a paralyzed hand.

- You go, take off my pension, buy a ring to yourself. With a lilac pebble. You love lilac pebbles.

- Yuronka, what a ring to me? You look in my hands, not a single ring will climb on them, ”mom holds out a hand -changed hand. The most beautiful fingers that I saw in my life were at my beauty-mother.

- Well then, buy earrings, with pebbles.

Mom with dad in the forest photo: from personal archive

Every time my mother called, I picked up the phone with fear. Each time I heard: “Dad tortured me - call the light, ask when he arrives - until I heard the sobbing into the phone. - Daughter, dad is very bad. I didn’t want to upset you, and then I think you won’t have time to come - I will blame myself that I didn’t call. ”
And everything broke off.

Stagnation pneumonia is one of the two causes of the death of paralyzed people. The second is a repeated stroke. Droppers, nurses. Dad looks at me, but inside himself. He is busy with hard work - he breathes, hoarsely and loudly, with his mouth open, his lips dry. We are waiting for an ambulance. I persuade myself and my mother that we will handle it again.

- I know this apartment! - The ambulance doctor is busy with dad. - Well, I know for sure! And I remember these wallpaper, and a closet with books ... And who did I look at you from?

A brother enters the room.

- Well! I remember you, I have been with you with the Ministry of Emergencies! I took a stroke! Well it was a long time ago.

- Two years ago there was a stroke.

- Well, dad breaks all your statistics! Put a dropper, I will write the appointment. With such strokes do not live up to a year. And your only thanks to care is so holding. Why don’t you live, my friend, a bed by the window, with a remote control, birds sing, spring soon. We will treat pneumonia, you will look at the birds. Everything will be fine.

Dad breaks all statistics! Only thanks to the care so holds

A doctor with a nurse is waiting for the medicine to get. White robe syndrome. In the presence of a doctor, fears leave. Everything will be fine. The doctor tells why dad does not swallow water, why he breathes so heavily, speaks about a possible stem stroke, says that an MRI would need. Papin's gaze returns from his world to ours.

My dad and my children are the 1990s Photo: From Personal Archive

- Yuronka, Sveta arrived. Look in the light, - dad slides over me and returns to himself. The doctor is leaving. We are sitting at the bed of dad and talking to him all evening. Sometimes dad's breathing becomes quiet, and we believe that everything will be fine.

I wake up early in the morning. In the next bedroom, dad breathes hoarsely and loudly. Mom is busy in the kitchen. Daddy's breathing subsides, lets me go - dad has become easier.

- Yura, Yura, why don't you wake up, you need to drink the medicine. Yuronka, open your eyes, I will give you the medicine, and you will fall asleep again.
I already understand what happened, but I so want to believe that dad is sleeping. And I hold on to it with all my might until I hear my mother’s scream:

- Dima! Dima! He is not breathing!

- Dad! Breathe! Breathe, I tell you!

I pull my jeans and run to the parent bedroom. I immediately become the eldest in the family.

... a girl from a funeral bureau. My support and my salvation. She commands me and my mother. Mom, which I cannot tear away from my father, obeys her and the police of the police, who came to testify death. When dad is taken, I turn my mother and brother with my back to the orderlies and press it to me. They do not see how they take out dad. I look at dad. The orderlies stumble about me with a look:

- Do not worry, we will carefully bring it.

We choose a coffin and an oak cross, a girl from a funeral bureau promises to agree so that there is no autopsy. There is no mother and brother. Brother crushes walls, mother went to the bank. I walk around empty rooms and scream in full voice. I live the world without a father. The role of the decision in the family, which I got from my father’s shoulder, is not in size, only there is no one else to put it on. I can’t cry, but I can scream, and I frantically yelling and the call of my father, until it hurts my heel on a tiny green bead near my father's bed. Mom does not wear beads, where does Daddy's bed have a bead? I mechanically raise it and put it in my pocket.

- Sveta! Sveta! “I hear a male voice calling me, and I can’t understand who it is.” Four in the morning. Maybe his brother went outside and cannot enter the entrance? I get out of bed and look out the window. At the entrance is empty. I leave the room, go to the kitchen. A brother smokes in the kitchen.

- Did you call me?

- No.

- And who screamed?

- It seemed to you.

I hide my father's bead in a wallet under a little lock. Dad is nearby, I just can't talk to him

I stand in the cheese of the February wind and watch how those who knew him say goodbye to my father. No grief, there is no feeling of loss, dad does not look like himself. I am not burying him, I bury his body. Dad is nearby. After his death, he returned to me from the world distorted by a stroke.

Fishing dad photo: from personal archive

“You will tolerate, we will close the grave, and it will become easier for you,” the foreman of the funeral brigade stands nearby. And yes, it really became easier for me when a beautiful oak cross stood over the closed grave. The next day I will come to my dad to cry, I will come to visit the one who always waited for me. I will come with a bright joy from meeting with my father. When I follow him, a loving soul will meet me. They will be glad to me. My dad will wait for me. He told his mother that it was not scary to die.

Leeches, frogs, a whistle of two fingers, soldiers' marches instead of lullabies, the river, I am sitting on my father’s neck and holding on my ears, multi -part fairy tales about us and my brother, every night new, invented on the move. I climb in a handkerchief. In the pocket of a tiny emerald bead.

- Mom, I found a bead by my father's bed. I don’t understand where she was from.

- This is not a bead, it is from dad's fishing rods. Silantyev came, he and dad watched.
I hide my father's bead in a wallet under a little lock. Dad is nearby, I just can't talk to him.

***

If the stroke happened to your loved one, and you do not know how to live on, here is the number where you can call - 8 800 707 5229, the orbi hotline phone. This is the most pressing and urgent help in cases where 99% of people do not have time to realize what happened and how to deal with it.

The hot line must be contained. Its employees need to be prepared and taught, you need to pay for their work, pay for telephone lines and equipment. The “need help” fund collects funds for this. Please subscribe to a monthly donation, even a small line, so that the hot line could exist, and everyone had where to turn for help.