By Pakiam Raja Gophal (TMC Sungai Petani)
It was an ordinary Wednesday evening. My father, Raja Gophal, 78, was reaching for the TV remote from his chair, lost his balance, and fell. One second, he was there. The next, he was on the floor, unable to get up.
The hospital ward was cold and too bright at 2 a.m. While the nurses checked his vitals, I sat beside his bed holding his hand. The X-ray showed a fractured thigh bone. Surgery was scheduled for the next morning.
In that moment, I stopped being just a daughter. I became a caregiver, an advocate, a notetaker, and a prayer warrior all at once. The first three nights were the hardest. After surgery, my Appaa began hallucinating from the pain medication and anesthesia. He would point at the corner and ask me, “Who are all these people standing there?” He once tried to pull out his IV, convinced he needed to “go to his grocery shop to serve his customers”.
I was exhausted and scared. This wasn’t the strong father I knew. I learned to speak calmly, reorient him gently, and hold his hand until he drifted back to sleep. The nurses said it was common for elderly patients, but that didn’t make it easier to watch.
It was in those 3 a.m. moments that Scripture kept me anchored. Psalm 23:4 became my breath prayer: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” The “valley” that week was a shared hospital room, beeping machines, and a father who didn’t recognize me at times. But I was not alone in it.
Caring for Appaa taught me three things:
1. Dignity matters most when you have the least control. When he was confused, he would still get upset if his sarong wasn’t straight. Adjusting it for him, speaking to him before the doctors did, explaining every procedure.
2. Strength looks like asking for help. I couldn’t do night duty forever, especially with the hallucinations. My brother and me set up a roster. We took turns to look after Appaa. My kampung people came to visit him. Galatians 6:2 says, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfil the law of Christ.”
After six days, we brought Appaa home. He now uses a walking frame and moves slowly. The hallucinations stopped once the strong medication ended, but the memory of them has stayed with me.
Those days also gave us something back. In the quiet of recovery, he told me stories from his estate days that I’d never heard before. Falling from that chair fractured his thigh bone, but it opened a door for us to be father and daughter in a deeper way.
Isaiah 41:10 was our verse through it all: “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” God upheld us both. My 78 year old father on the hospital bed, confused and in pain, and me on the hard chair beside him, afraid and tired.
If you are caring for an aging parent today, I see you. The nights are long, the hallucinations are heartbreaking, and the worry is heavy. But even there, in the ward with the beeping and the shadows, HIS hand will guide you. And sometimes, the fall becomes the place where grace lifts you both up.
