Everything reminded me of my grandfather today.
I was in clinic this morning, where a girl about my age accompanied her grandfather to his appointment so that she could learn more about the parathyroidectomy we'd be doing in a couple of weeks. He was nervous about it, and while I'm sure she was too, she hid it well, asking how soon after the surgery he'd be able to eat (the next day!), and promising him the best sushi dinner of his life.
One of the fondest memories I have of my grandfather is going to this swanky sushi place in Taiwan when I was merely 8 or 9. It was a hipster place, and I'm sure we looked completely out of place, but my 8-or-9-year old self just thought it was so cool and so fancy, and I was so excited. My grandfather had never been there before, but heard that it had the best sushi in the city, and grandfathers always want to get the best for their granddaughters, so we went to this hip restaurant that was completely packed. I was hungry, so my grandfather decided to splurge, and we sat at the uber expensive but empty sushi bar. I felt like such a grown-up, getting to order directly from the chef, instead of having to choose a kid's combo meal. And he let me order whatever I wanted! Salmon, tuna, red snapper, uni, anything I wanted to point to. It was the best meal of my life.
This afternoon, I also scrubbed into a hemicolectomy. The patient had stage III colon cancer, and as I told my resident the correct answer to survival curves and what should be used for adjuvant chemo, I couldn't help but feel defeated that my grandfather fell into the unfortunate 30% population that didn't beat the odds.
The 2-year anniversary of my grandfather's death is fast approaching. And while I have to admit that there are days when I don't even think of him, there are days - like today - when it hits me like a ton of bricks.
And that's when I wish I had done more, said more, held his hand more, and took him to eat sushi more.
But most of all, I wish he were still here.
3 years ago
