By: Ishiyaq Kar
His last words to me were “I’m Choking, treat me”
The kindest, loveliest man I have ever known, my father, lost the COVID battle and died on May 5 this year. When my brother and I took him to the hospital, I promised him I would bring him home in a few days. I couldn’t keep my word. I failed. He never broke a promise he made to me.
My dad was my best friend and greatest role model. He was an amazing dad, mentor, husband and friend. The loss of my father was the most traumatic event in my life, I can’t forget the pain.
Not a day goes without thinking about him. I wish I still had his wisdom to guide me through my every day,
It hurts to think that you are not here anymore. Although I can’t help but smile with tears in my eyes to think of how we cherished each and every moment of our lives together when you were alive. I miss you dad.
My father had always taught me that hard work is the only investment that never fails.
Dad, your guiding hand on my shoulder will remain with me forever. You have been there for me, no matter what bad choices I might have made… You will always be special to me, and no matter where life takes me, I’ll always remember you with love.
DAD’s battle in the hospital
It was April 13, I came back from Jammu. Back home my father was not feeling well as he had some cough and joint pain. I told my father Habib- Ullah Kar, a retired Police officer that he may have contracted Covid- 19. Like a parent who doesn’t want to burden his child, he downplayed everything, dismissing the possibility of Covid-19. But after some days I got ill, I decided to go for Covid test along with my father and brother, however surprisingly my father and brother turned negative and I was declared positive.
My brother drove the car home and I got myself isolated. But on the same day my brother took dad to visit the chest specialist where some tests were done and the x-ray showed acute pneumonia.
The doctor told my brother that the Covid has damaged his lungs and advised him to take dad to the hospital as soon as possible. On the same day my father was admitted to the SMHS hospital.
The first SpO2 reading was 65. When he was put on oxygen the reading was the same. The ventilator was not available in the hospital because of the worst situation.
Somehow we managed to shift the dad to the SKIMS and got the ventilator. Inside the hospital’s Covid ward some were bawling their eyes out while others were consoling each other. The unknown attendants in a fraction of time became friends and shared each other’s pain. They were hoping against hope.
The doctors put daddy on high flow oxygen. He was given steroids and Remdesivir injections. Almost after a week, he showed a significant improvement. On May 4 my father’s words to me were: “I’m choking, treat me”.
Unfortunately, on May 5, a few hours after midnight, his oxygen saturation levels declined again and he started sinking. As doctors raised their hands, we surrendered to faith.
At around 1 Pm, my beloved dad bid us goodbye for the last time.
(Ishtiyaq Kar is Editor local news agency KINS)