The Incessant Beeping Anonymous

The incessant, monotone beeping of the heart monitor was Public Enemy #1.

It alone was not the problem. Rather, it meant that I had found myself in a hospital room again. First it was my grandma, then my dad, then my grandma again. Each time was the same, but the repetition of it all didn’t make it any easier. Seeing the multitude of tubes hooked up to the North Stars of my childhood led to an internal battle to retain my composure. Each car ride to the hospital, my heart would bend, as if bracing for impact. And once I would get there, the heart monitor was a constant reminder of the situation.

It began my junior year. Post-Quintuple Bypass Surgery, my grandma was returned back to us with foot-long lists of new prescriptions and a recovering body. Attending to her, while also trying to adjust to my plethora of activities, was demanding. All the heightened emotion provided for breakdowns galore. How can one casually study the thirteen colonies when the George Washington in her life is screaming downstairs because the pain is too much? It became a question of priorities. Was an A on the Physics test more important than what could be the last hours with my grandma?

Another episode occurred just about a week ago. I had awoken to...