Knock, knock, knockin’… on critical care’s door

Excerpt

I do not understand why we could not stay with my father as now I stay with my son here. While he was in critical care we could only see him for a couple of hours per day, and no more than two people at a time. When my father was there, he said he felt completely empty, with nobody to share it with or to really talk to. He also said that maybe some procedures could have been performed under more analgesia, or maybe, at least with one of us there just holding his hand. He missed being asked, “how are you doing?” by physicians and nurses; he missed his radio programs, his new e-reader and his music. During those days, he also had questions to ask about his condition, but with no words or courage to address the doctors he remained silent. He used to say not only that he missed being healthy but also that staying in such [an] unfamiliar place made him feel completely lost…