My uncle was admitted into the hospital yesterday, and for the first time our family has to seriously adjust the way we think about him and his being a Jehovah Witness.
He is the only Witness in the family, having converted sometime while I was in elementary school. In general, it hasn’t been a big deal for the family. Sure, he doesn’t show up for holidays, and when we do all eat together he says grace first, but other than that, everything has been the same.
However, being admitted into the hospital for internal bleeding for a Witness is very serious indeed. Since they refuse any type of blood transfusion (and no one in the family ever bothered to as the reasoning behind that bit of religious dogma), it was very touch and go for awhile, especially since it was a tear in an artery, and those can’t be fixed except by blood clotting and creating a scab.
Now that he’s out of the woods, my family has to come to grip with the reality that my uncle is willing to die for his religion. That we won’t be able to force him to do anything to save his life. That in all likelihood he will die from something that ultimately treatable.
It’s a sobering thought, to be sure. My uncle is my favorite uncle: witty, sarcastic, a true “Hightower” to the end. My dad and he tell us stories about when they were little and the horrible things they did to each other and to their little sisters. It’s a rather sad thought that one day my uncle won’t be around to tell us these stories as well.
So now, the only think the family can talk about—out of the listening range of my uncle, of course—is that they don’t understand his religion and why he he’s willing to let himself die. Oh, and why did he call a witness instead of his family first.
The last though, is pretty easy. He’s very popular in his congregation, and his best friend (who’s a Witness, of course), lives down the street. When he called for the ambulance himself, he wasn’t sure if he locked his doors, so when he got to the hospital, he called his friend to tell him what happened, and his friend called my cousin. My cousin, in turn called the rest of the family. So, it’s not like he was trying to not let us know. He just called who he knew would be home and not in the middle of something.
In all, it’s a very trying time for the family. Not as bad as when my dad had a heart attack two years ago and would have died if he hadn’t gotten to the hospital , but bad just the same.
My uncle, like any Hightower who has ever been in the hospital, is ready to go home. He was ready to go home yesterday as soon as they had announced he was stable. The doctors want to keep him for a few days, but then he’ll be home, life back to normal and acting like nothing had ever happened. My dad did the same thing. I suppose I will to, if I ever have to go to the hospital.
If you feel fine, you might as well get on with living life, right? But now life is a little different, after having a taste of what could happen if something serious happens to my uncle. However, it’s his choice, and we’ll all have to live with it.
I’m really glad he’s doing better, though. I don’t want that time to come until much later. Like, after me.
—”Which to Bury; Us or the Hatchet,” MmmHmm: Relient K.
