Stronger than COVID

By Delilah Rodriguez

It had been a whole month of being on our “extended spring break”, when my Grandma was admitted to the hospital for COVID. I knew she had it that Saturday, which was also her birthday. I remember it so clearly, the ring of the phone as we had tried to Facetime with her, so the whole family could sing her Happy Birthday. After the third try, my mom made the walk to her house. She described the smell as the stench of sickness. My grandma laid on the couch with her eyes closed, not even opening them to see who had come through the door. Each breath took all her energy, never saving any for the next.

A little over a week after she was admitted to the hospital, the doctors had to induce her into a coma. She woke up several times trying to rip out her feeding tube they had hooked up to her. That's when the psychosis started, when we first noticed something was wrong with my grandma mentally. It had been when we Facetimed her for the first time in the hospital, hours after she was released from her coma state.

The only way I could describe it was as though someone had crawled into my grandma’s skin and was impersonating her. Not even her voice sounded the same, she rambled about men trying to murder her and the nurses trying to poison her. When I asked her how she was doing she didn’t even recognize me, insisting that she didn’t know me. It tore me to pieces at the thought of my grandma believing I was a stranger to her.

When I lived with my grandma as a little kid, her voice would always wake me up on Sunday morning (cleaning day), as she sang songs that kept her Duranganian soul alive. Her home was always the epicenter of all my happy childhood memories and she was the rock that kept the family together. It scared me to know I might never hear my grandma’s sweet singing voice while we make tamales or while we walk to church.

In my eyes my grandma has always been hardworking and diligent. My mom being the oldest had the clearest view of how hardworking she really was.

Mom: “She's a strong and determined, self-made woman. She had us and she always worked. She always knew that if she worked, we could have and we’ll always have a roof over our head and food. we never went without food.”

Despite the doctors telling us that my grandma had a 50% chance of surviving Covid-19 she prevailed. By mid-May she had recovered enough to be put into a rehabilitation program to strengthen her lungs and for her to recover enough from the psychosis. She stayed there for two long weeks that seemed to stretch time, making it feel like she was there for 20 years. We visited her everyday, only able to make contact with her through her bedroom window.

In the rehab center there was nothing to do. My grandma described the place as sad and lacking luster. The first day we were allowed to visit her she begged us to bring her coloring books and sweets. She was always a kid at heart, and my mom shared memories of my grandma’s kid-like spirit.

Mom: “So when we were younger grandma loved hostess treats. She was just like a kid, growing up with us and I remember every Friday after dinner she would just look at us like you guys want some hostess, some panecitos. We would get excited and she would send me to go get them and by the time I would get back she would have a glass of milk. We would sit down and eat these treats and for her they were so amazing. It was just like a little kid that was eating ice cream. She always had a child in her, when we were growing up so it almost felt like more like she was like our sister when we were growing up more than a mother. She enjoyed going to Disneyland when we were younger, she liked going to Disneyland, once we moved over here to San Jose going to Great America.Do even though she worked really hard she knew there was time to enjoy ourselves”

As soon as the two weeks were over, my grandma was allowed to go home, and my uncle took her into his house to look after her for another two weeks. When she was there, friends, coworkers and extended family all came to congratulate her on her recovery. My grandpa was the first to visit her, talking up to her from the driveway while she listened from her second story window. It was something straight out of every Young Adult movie.

After her time at my uncle’s house, she finally went home and was greeted with the sight of her house that had been remodeled for her. My grandpa had ripped out all the carpet that she had loathed and replaced it with beautiful new hardwood floors. But as she walked in her main focus was her five goldfish that she had been worrying about since day one. The fish were, fortunately, in good health and equally happy to see her.

Once recovered enough to integrate back into society, my family took her to one of her favorite spots to eat, Tacos Autlense. I could see the happiness in her face, beaming, as she looked at us all individually. I smiled back, hiding back my tears of joy knowing my grandma was so strong, stronger than the psychosis and stronger than COVID-19. She was so strong that as soon as the doctors told her it was okay for her to work again she was there.

Nobody missed my grandma as much as my mom did. My mom was the one that took all the stress and emotional turmoil the most. While she was battling COVID herself, she was the one who communicated and received all the calls from the doctors, who handled all the financial worries, and who made sure that everyone was stable.

Mom: “I could talk to Grandma for hours, over the phone, in person. When I go over there we always have a good conversation about everything. We could just talk and we could talk we could go for a walk. When I’m walking tissue, I'll stop by her door like “hey, have you gone for a walk” and she says no and she puts on her shoes and let's go “Vamos a caminar”. And the whole time we're just just talking I don't know where we find so much conversation but we're just talking and three hours later we're like, “okay, I guess we have to go home and cook or go home and relax and all right see you later see you tomorrow”, we'll just pick up the next time when we see each other”

Now, a full year later, she’s completely recovered, entirely vaccinated and enjoying everyday life for what it has to offer. I visit her as much as possible so that I can soak up as much of her as I can. This whole experience has taught me what it feels like to be vulnerable to the core, and shown me that in the blink of an eye everything and everyone can be ripped from you, so you have to be grateful for what you have in the moment. I cherish every moment I have with her and look forward to making more memories with her.