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Breathe for me.

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Summary

This story isn't a love story. It is a very real account of my beautiful grandmothers struggle with a deadly disease. It is my own personal account of the illness that rocked our family to the core for nearly 5 long years. COPD is a deadly incurable illness that doesn't get talked about enough, and I owe it to her to tell her story. This story is still being written and is also my first so go easy on me but please tell me of any faults so I can fix them. (Obviously unedited thus far) This is for you Nan. I love you ❤

Genre
Other
Author
Jasmine
Status
Ongoing
Chapters
7
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
13+

Is she sick?

I don't know when it happened that it crossed my mind that she might be sick. When we worked at the plant together and she became breathless trying to break down boxes, or when she grew thinner before our eyes. Perhaps when she quit working without telling us a reason, previously a workaholic, never did she shy away from a hard days labor. But at some point it became apparent that she wasn't okay.

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I don't remember the day exactly. I don't remember if it was a holiday or not but since we were having a large family get together for a potluck supper, I suppose it must've been. I was sitting on the couch bouncing my 9 month old son on my lap when she arrived along side my fiancee who went to get her. My mother heavily pregnant with my sister made her way to the door to greet her. She walked in slowly as if the steps tired her, frail and thin, nothing but bone. I struggled to show surprise on my face. Surely she can't have deteriorated this bad since I last seen her. But she had. She sat down beside me with a huff like a balloon losing it's air. Puffing and panting to regain her breath her lips a tinge blue. I put on my best smile, I truly was glad to see her even if I could feel the genuine concern and fear struggling to pull me down. I gave her and hug and kiss like I normally would gently as though she might break, her skin so terribly cold.

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The evening passed as they all normally did, with food and excited conversation, lots of family and snuggles for my son Rory. He lapped it up and showed off his new skill of standing with furniture as my grandmother gushed over him even in her frail state. We all took notice of how little she ate that evening but we all knew this wasn't the time or place to mention it. That evening after putting Rory to bed I went downstairs and settled down in the living room to discuss what was going on with Nan, could it be anorexia? Something we all struggled with at one point. what about Cancer? Could it be a bug? No. No bug lasts this long. Wouldn't she have other issues if it was cancer? The questions swirled around late into the night as we discussed what might be happening. Mom resolved to talk to her the following day and see if she could get any answers, they talked everyday anyways so it wouldn't be that suspicious. We all went to bed late, with heavy hearts and confused jumbled questions.

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My mother talked to her the next day. I hung around in the background cleaning and talking care of Rory with an ear always on the conversation. At the time my fiancee, son and I lived with my mother, her boyfriend and my two younger brothers at a large white house, down in a small city we were all a close knit community. I had my son at 16 years old and dropped out of high school. Not the most glamorous life style but it worked out for us. My fiancee being my son's father I met him when I was 15 and we quickly fell in love, he is an electrician and his income alone barely supported us so we stayed with my family until we could get on our feet.

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Listening in to the conversation I heard bits and pieces but I knew mom would tell me in the end anyways, we might be a unique family but we were a very close knit family we all knew everything about each other. Mom came and found me in the dining room turned play room and sat down to discuss what she learned. Rory contently playing with building blocks and watching Hooplakids would never remember our hushed words as if we were scared to speak the truth of how ill my nan had become.

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"She says she's not anorexic, she's not trying to lose weight, she's says she's so out of breath that it's hard to eat and when she does it makes it worse."

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I looked at her, wearing a mask of calm while I battled the panicked confusion inside. I researched a lot of medical things, I had quite a knack for it, I was the family nurse after all even having no high school education. I had never heard of it before. My mind jumped to lung cancer. It had to be that. What else could it be?

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