“Ma’am,” The doctor had walked back into the room, brows furrowed and voice barely above a whisper. I felt a hand rest on my shoulder. “Ma’am, she’s not going to make it much longer. We did what we could but-”
My ears block out any sound, replacing the doctor's voice with a low buzz. I let my gaze fall to the woman laying on the bed. My mother. The one who raised me. The one who cared for me every waking moment of my life. Her chest rises and falls shallowly. The tiny beat of her heart was growing weaker and weaker each day. Her eyes are closed. Her eyes have been closed for six years now. Tears begin to prickle in the corners of my eyes. My chest hurts. I didn't realize I had been crying until the doctor handed me the entire tissue box, snapping me back to reality.
The doctor falls silent, unsure of their place in the room. They clear their throat after a moment. “I understand this is hard for you, I do, but you need to make a decision.”
A sob escapes me. No. No, I can’t do this. I don’t want to.
“We could continue treatment, of course. Though none of our methods seem to be working. Or, we can let go, and say our goodbyes. She lived a good, long life, no? Eighty six years.” The doctor's words are cold, but true. She is suffering. I know she is. “Just… think about it. I’ll get back to you in a moment.”
“No,” I say weakly, tightening my hold on the tissue box. “You’re right. She's been suffering for too long now.”
The doctor simply nods before exiting the room. I only stayed for a few more moments to say some parting words to my mothers unmoving form, knowing that it would be the last time I saw her.
- - -
It’s been a few years since the doctor pulled the plug. Things have been getting better over time. I still miss her, of course. Who wouldn’t miss their own mother? But like many things, there must come a time when they end.
MEANWHILE IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE...
“Ma’am,” The doctor had walked back into the room, brows furrowed and voice barely above a whisper. I felt a hand rest on my shoulder. “Ma’am, she’s not going to make it much longer. We did what we could but-”
My ears block out any sound, replacing the doctor's voice with a low buzz. I let my gaze fall to the woman laying on the bed. My mother. The one who raised me. The one who cared for me every waking moment of my life. Her chest rises and falls shallowly. The tiny beat of her heart was growing weaker and weaker each day. Her eyes are closed. Her eyes have been closed for six years now. Tears begin to prickle in the corners of my eyes. My chest hurts. I didn't realize I had been crying until the doctor handed me the entire tissue box, snapping me back to reality.
The doctor falls silent, unsure of their place in the room. They clear their throat after a moment. “I understand this is hard for you, I do, but you need to make a decision.”
A sob escapes me. No. No, I can’t do this. I don’t want to.
“We could continue treatment, of course. Though none of our methods seem to be working. Or, we can let go, and say our goodbyes. She lived a good, long life, no? Eighty six years.” The doctor's words are cold, unfeeling. How could he say something like that? She’s going to make it. I know she is. “Just… think about it. I’ll get back to you in a moment.”
“No,” I say, grounding myself by tightening my hold on the tissue box. “I’m not giving up. I don’t care what it takes, I’m getting my mother back.”
The doctor sighs, seeming impatient. “You need to understand that the possibility is slim-”
“-and you need to understand that I am not under any circumstances going to give up so easily!” Frustration takes ahold of my voice, angry tears now streaming down my face.
“The treatment isn’t working-”
“So try something new!!” I exclaim. “Anything, for fuck’s sake. Do whatever you need to do! Just-” My grip tightens on the box. “Just get my mother back.”
“Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”
- - -
*3 months later*
Ring, ring, ring.
Ring, ring, ri-
“Hello?” I question.
“Ma’am! It’s a miracle! She woke up!”