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He’s been here for over a week, and each day I come to the hospital to see him, I always try to act strong. Even if it’s killing me inside to see him so frail and weak, I always put up a smile when I’m around him. Each day, the sickness is slowly eating him up, and it seems we’re running out of time.
I take a deep breath before I open the door. The beeping sounds of the machines in his room welcomes me. His eyes are half-closed, but the moment he senses my presence, he slowly opens them, a weak smile appearing on his face.
“Hey,” I say in a small voice as I walk to the side of his bed.
“Hey,” he responds, his voice so low I barely hear him above the machines. I reach out and take his weak hand in mine.
“How are you today?” I ask even though I already know the answer.
His smile is unwavering; he rubs his fingers along mine. “Hanging in there.”
“Do hang in. Mama and I are working on getting you all that you need to be better,” I say.
“I know, I can tell from the dark circles underneath your eyes. You’re stressing yourself, aren’t you?” he says, pointing a finger at my eyes.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I think I’m allergic to the new skincare product I just bought,” I say with a chuckle, trying to dismiss his concern.
He gives me a knowing look. “Thank you, Cam. I’m sorry I have to put you and Mama through so much stress; I…”
“Shh... don’t feel sorry; this isn’t your fault.”
He lets out a slow, sad sigh. We both fall silent for a moment, and I look away and focus my attention on one of the machines because it’s the best I can do to stop myself from crying.
“You remember when we were still little, and Mama would tell us stories?” Andrew asks, breaking the silence.
“Yeah,” I turn to face him.
“She would always say that bad things happened to those who did wrong. She used to say it was their punishment. Do you think I’m getting punished for something that I might have done?”
“No! Of course not. Don’t say that. You’re not being punished. You’re going to get better; we’re all working on it to make sure of that. I just need you to have a little faith. Okay?”
“Okay,” he says with a smile, his eyes now beginning to dim. “I’m always sleepy a lot,” he murmurs.
“It’s okay, get some rest.”
“I love you, Kate,” he murmurs before finally drifting off to sleep.
“I love you too.”
I stay in his room for a while, watching him sleep, before I leave. When I step out of his room, Mama is walking in. “You were supposed to stay home and get some rest,” I tell her. I’d asked her to get some rest while I came to be with Andrew.
She smiles weakly, shaking her head. “I can rest here while I’m close to him. How is he?”
“He’s sleeping now.”
She lets out a sad sigh as she walks over to an empty bench across the hallway. I follow her, and we both sit. “Any news from the financial aid agencies?” she asks.
“Not yet,” I reply with a shake of my head. “They say these things take time; I’m going to continue reaching out to more agencies.”
“Time is what we don’t have,” she almost cries out. “And we’re yet to find a donor too. Why can’t they just have my own bone marrow? I don’t mind.” Her eyes become misty as she speaks.
“You can’t be a donor, Mama, because of your arthritis,” I remind her in a resigned voice. “I wish they could take mine too.”
“What if we’re not able…”
“Mama, don’t say it,” I quickly cut in. “Andrew is going to get through this, and we’re going to be together again as a happy family.”
“I’ve lost your brother and…”
