Story of My Grandma
My Dear Loving Grandma
In the heart of rural South India, where time seemed to stand still, my dear, loving Grandma was a beacon of unwavering affection and support in our family. She had never set foot in the United States, yet her love and encouragement transcended borders, reaching me through the pixelated screen of FaceTime. Grandma was more than just a family member; she was my biggest cheerleader, the one who fueled my dreams and celebrated my achievements, no matter the distance that separated us. From the moment I won my first swimming medal to the night I performed in the orchestra, her love was a constant presence, like a warm, reassuring embrace. Despite the miles between us, she clung to dreams of witnessing my high school graduation in the land of opportunity, the United States. Little did we know that fate had a different plan, one that would shroud our lives in a relentless storm of despair.
Grandma's Walks to the Hospital
It was a bleak Wednesday afternoon in the chill of February 2019 when Grandma embarked on a journey that would forever alter the course of our lives. She set out from her humble South Indian home to a distant specialty hospital, her steps echoing the rhythm of her life, steady and determined. Little did we know that these seemingly ordinary steps would mark the last time she’d ever walk again.
Doctor Testing for her Breathing Issues...
The hospital, a fortress of hope and despair, became her new home. Doctors, with furrowed brows, embarked on an arduous journey to unravel the intricate web of her breathing condition. Inside the sterile walls of the intensive care unit, they toiled tirelessly, their efforts a desperate symphony to restore her ailing lungs to their former glory.
Grandma Unable to Walk
As days turned into weeks and her breathing improved, hope seemed to flutter back into our hearts. Yet, an insidious specter loomed over her spirit. Despite her progress with breathing issues, she remained confined to the hospital bed, unable to take even the smallest step. The doctors, unyielding in their quest for answers, pursued countless blood tests and treatments, but the mystery behind her immobility refused to reveal itself.
Grandma Never Walked Again
Forty days slipped away within the sterile confines of the hospital room, and what was once a simple act – the ability to walk – had transformed into an insurmountable, daunting peak. The routine dependence on the compassionate hospital staff for even the most basic of needs gnawed at the core of her spirit, eroding her once indomitable resilience. Each moment dragged on, each day an unchanging and relentless cycle, forging an abyss of hopelessness that loomed ominously, threatening to engulf us all in its suffocating grasp.
My Grandma Passed Away in 100 Days 🙁
As the weeks stretched into seemingly endless months, the enigma of my grandma’s lost ability to walk continued to baffle even the most brilliant minds in the field of medicine. Countless blood panels were ordered, each one a glimmer of hope that held the promise of unlocking the mystery shrouding her immobility. Yet, in a devastating oversight, the crucial micronutrient testing, the missing piece of the puzzle, was consistently omitted from these evaluations, preventing a comprehensive understanding of her complex health challenges. After enduring a grueling and relentless journey that spanned an agonizing 100 days, the final chapter of my grandma’s life was etched in sorrow. The radiant light that had blessed and graced our lives for generations slowly dimmed, leaving us in the icy grip of unrelenting grief.
Conclusion
As we grappled with the icy grip of unrelenting grief, processing her death, I couldn’t help but feel misled. My entire family, including my father, had believed fervently that her condition would improve. We clung to the hope and prayed that her strength would return, that she would take those steps once more, perhaps even join us in the United States for my high school graduation.
My dad’s contagious positivity had vanished, leaving me feeling utterly alone without my biggest cheerleader. Among the whirlwind of racing thoughts were ideas of prevention. I backtracked, puzzled by the earlier assurances from doctors that her condition would improve. Unable to bottle my anguish, I probed my dad’s biomedical background, and he revealed that he had embarked on a quest to research the cause of her inability to walk, seeking closure through various sources. Eventually, we discovered that her inability to walk was due to micronutrient deficiencies.
I had no idea how significantly micronutrients like vitamins and minerals could affect one’s health. Desperation drove me to dive deep into medical journals, blogs, YouTube—anything and everything—to learn more about these crucial elements. During this quest for knowledge, we unearthed a startling fact: typical blood panels, even in developed countries, don’t test for micronutrients unless specifically requested, and this critical omission had allowed my grandma’s deficiencies to slip under the radar in a smaller town hospital.
This revelation ignited a fire within me, a determination to prevent others from experiencing the loss and suffering we had endured. It led me to an idea called, the MicroNutriMeter, a small device (similar to a blood pressure monitor or glucose monitor that is available in the pharmacies currently) that will empower individuals to measure their own micronutrient levels in the comfort of their homes. The MicroNutriMeter not only identifies deficiencies but also provides tailored recommendations for dietary changes and supplements. It’s a simple, pain-free solution that aims to ensure comprehensive micronutrient testing becomes accessible to all, sparing families from the heartbreak of preventable tragedies like ours. Through this invention, I hope to honor my grandma’s memory and make a difference in the lives of countless others around the world.