Being a teenager sucks. Through body issues, self esteem crushes, friends and parents; you think it can’t get any worse. But when it does get worse you realize how great you actually had it before.
For this past year my father has been out of a job, and with my mom having a part time job, my parents have been getting a lot of financial assistance while my father has been looking for work. I thought I had it bad enough seeing my family struggle like this at a young age and my father becoming depressed as he struggled to keep his four children under a roof; but one summer day I realized it could. I have an older brother, Roberto, he is someone I look up to and on that day he said his chest was hurting, he has said it many times before, especially after swimming, but this time he knew it was serious. Since he just turned eighteen he had a lot of pride that he had to drop as he asked our dad if he could take him to the hospital.
“Oh my gosh! Really?” My mother replied to my father over the phone one hour later as I wondered what she was shocked about. My mother has a tendency to be overly dramatic, so it’s sometimes difficult to take her seriously. “What happened mom?” I asked her as I watched TV and she took a seat next to me on the couch. “Roberto’s lung collapsed. His lungs are too big for his body and they need to do surgery on him right away.” She said softly. My jaw dropped. I didn’t understand it. He was perfectly fine the day before. My mother told me that it has been years of build up as this whole time with all the sports he has done his lungs had been wearing down. I cried when I heard the news. People say that their whole life flashes before their eyes before they die. But I have never heard about the people that care for them and how their memories with that person also flashed before their eyes.
When we showed up to visit him in his room later that night the doctor said that he has pneumothorax, and if he would have came later there could have been deadly complications.
On my mother’s birthday which was two days after the day he entered the hospital, and the day he had his surgery my mother didn’t feel like celebrating. When we visited him after his surgery in the afternoon he was in deep pain. The nurse told my father that for a young person surgery hurts, but with lung surgery it really hurts, even more then open heart surgery. When my brother woke up his eyes were dark, and his face looked dry as if it was gasping for air. My father broke down and cried since it hurt him that my brother was only concerned about how much my father was going to have to pay for the surgery. Once my brother was fully awake but still on heavy medical drugs, me, my sisters, and my father left to get my mother a cake for her birthday, hoping that since my brother was more alert that he would be up for it. When we got back my mother told me that he didn’t want anyone around that night since he was in even more pain and was having trouble with a rude nurse who told him that he was just afraid of the pain and that he wasn’t cooperating right.
“Why me God?” My mom quoted my brother. She said that is all he could say when it was just the two of them. He kept questioning why he was chosen to be punished, what he has done wrong to deserve such pain.
The next day I could see my brother was miserable, he couldn’t eat, walk, or talk. He looked anemic after days without eating.
“No one deserves to be strapped down like this.” He mumbled as he stared up at the ceiling. I looked down at these tubes that were inserted in his chest which connected to a bunch of wires. I felt sick. “I love you Roberto.” I said. He nodded and went on watching TV. I didn’t know what to say, since nothing I did or said would make this better.
Our church heard the word about him and went to the hospital for a holy communion, people sent cards to him and his friends visited him at night. The glitter that normally appeared in his eyes seemed to sparkle again when he was around his friends. But my mom could tell they were just as uncomfortable as we were, seeing someone that young in pain was probably surreal to them. I kept biting my thumb whenever we drove home thinking how we could’ve prevented it.
The next week on Monday morning my brother was told that he could go home and that this nightmare would be over, but on that same day it was false hope since the doctor told my dad differently. “Bianca the doctor said that the surgery didn’t work like they thought it would, he might need more surgery.” My dad told me, “But he is going to be fine, he isn’t dying.” It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself more than me. I hugged my dad as he cried. He told me the news when just the two of us were home and everyone else was at the hospital. That same day my dad got some even more news, some good news though, after a year of searching my dad got a job ironically for public relations for a hospital. It was the most bittersweet news that we had, “Maybe this is a sign things will get better.” He said.
On Wednesday my brother looked like he aged a year, his body and face looked weak. My dad asked me to stay alone with him since we were now taking shifts where each family member stayed with him at separate times so it isn’t as overbearing with all of us there. I don’t think he wanted to talk to me about the pain since I am his little sister, he apologized any time he cussed when he felt pain in his arms form all the needles they put in him. I wanted to tell him how strong he was and that he is a fighter, but I felt maybe I could open up to him once this was all over, whenever that would happen. On Friday we would learn if all the tubes and tests had worked.
“Girls we have to clean up.” My mom said that Friday morning. Please god it’s because Roberto is coming home. I thought to myself. “Your dad is bringing Roberto home, he is very fragile right now and has a new diet, but he is going to be alight.” My mom said with relief. After that we went on a frenzy to clean up the house. “Why are we cleaning up for Roberto, why is he so important?” My little sister Elena asked. Since her and my other sister are younger I don’t think they understood how serious this was, I must admit at times I wanted attention from my parents too, but at the same time I wouldn’t want to be in my brother’s place to get all this attention. “After all he has been through; this is the least we can do.” My mom said as she turned on the vacuum. That day we welcomed back my brother and prayed things would go back to normal day by day. He seemed content and didn’t really want to do anything that day.
“It was funny whenever the doctors asked how I was doing and then I would say ‘terrible, how are you?’”Roberto said when it was just us two in our front room. I was surprised how he made light out of the darkest time. “It was even funnier after you had your surgery and Sofia filmed you and even with your medication you said ‘get that camera out of my face!’” I somehow made light of it too. For the rest of the day we discussed the things we cried about for the last two weeks.
Yes, being a teenager sucks, but soon these years will end, and each day as it gets harder you realize how the challenges from the day before has made you strong enough to handle the obstacles in the present one.