it was canadian thanksgiving, thus i didn't have school. around 6 i woke up, heard my father say "i am taking the sausages for lunch." and then went back to sleep. he had gone to work on his bicycle. later on, around 9, i was watching tv and the doorbell rang. when i saw a police officer through the window i was a bit worried. he told my mother that my father had fallen while going to work, and he had just been rushed to the next city's hospital, and if we wanted to go, he was there. i cried a bit but it seemed ridiculous; falling on a bike. my mother thought he had broken his leg or something, but she was still worried. i quickly took a shower while she called her friend, so that she could come with us. we got there and waited all day long in a room, all by ourselves. i'd brought paper with me, so i drew emaciated girls. the doctor came in and asked if my father took drugs because he was reacting oddly to treatment. late in the afternoon we got to see him, although the nurse seemed a bit worried because i was young and his face was all scratched and swollen. but i saw him with tubes everywhere and big cheeks and i started to laugh out loud, saying "he's not snoring! that's a first!"
two days later he was transferred to a bigger city, 8 hours away from our home back then. my mother left me two weeks at a time to be there. he could only speak khmer at first and couldn't remember who we were. after just a couple of months he got to come back home (usually people who had gone through such a cranial trauma would stay for at least 6 months, more like 12) and from then on life changed because i had a new temperamental daddy that none of us knew. i was a little angry teenager and that didn't help. my sisters didn't live with us so i was the only one there to see the damage. four years have passed and the accident has changed so much in our lives, and everyday we are still strongly reminded that he is somewhat of a stranger, and i am still an angry teenager. i mentioned the sausages, because when we came back home on oct. 10th, the police had brought his bicycle back to our house, along with the plastic bag that contained his lunch, the rice and the sausages. they were cold and they made me sad for some reason. we just threw them out.
this is longer than i intended it to be, and still it doesn't say much. oh, well.
around 6 i woke up, heard my father say "i am taking the sausages for lunch." and then went back to sleep. he had gone to work on his bicycle.
later on, around 9, i was watching tv and the doorbell rang.
when i saw a police officer through the window i was a bit worried.
he told my mother that my father had fallen while going to work,
and he had just been rushed to the next city's hospital, and if we wanted to go, he was there. i cried a bit but it seemed ridiculous; falling on a bike. my mother thought he had broken his leg or something, but she was still worried.
i quickly took a shower while she called her friend, so that she could come with us.
we got there and waited all day long in a room, all by ourselves. i'd brought paper with me, so i drew emaciated girls.
the doctor came in and asked if my father took drugs because he was reacting oddly to treatment.
late in the afternoon we got to see him, although the nurse seemed a bit worried because i was young and his face was all scratched and swollen.
but i saw him with tubes everywhere and big cheeks and i started to laugh out loud, saying "he's not snoring! that's a first!"
two days later he was transferred to a bigger city, 8 hours away from our home back then. my mother left me two weeks at a time to be there. he could only speak khmer at first and couldn't remember who we were. after just a couple of months he got to come back home (usually people who had gone through such a cranial trauma would stay for at least 6 months, more like 12)
and from then on life changed because i had a new temperamental daddy that none of us knew. i was a little angry teenager and that didn't help. my sisters didn't live with us so i was the only one there to see the damage.
four years have passed and the accident has changed so much in our lives, and everyday we are still strongly reminded that he is somewhat of a stranger, and i am still an angry teenager.
i mentioned the sausages, because when we came back home on oct. 10th, the police had brought his bicycle back to our house, along with the plastic bag that contained his lunch, the rice and the sausages. they were cold and they made me sad for some reason.
we just threw them out.
this is longer than i intended it to be,
and still it doesn't say much. oh, well.
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