When the doctors said those words, everything went silent. “Prepare for the worst.” That sentence echoed in my mind long after we left the hospital. He had been sick for months, growing weaker despite medication, tests, and countless hospital visits.
Every new report came with less hope than the last. We watched helplessly as someone we loved faded right in front of us. We did everything we were told. We followed prescriptions, changed diets, moved between hospitals, and even sought specialists.
Nothing worked. His body rejected treatment, and complications kept piling up. At some point, doctors stopped talking about recovery and started talking about time. That was when fear turned into despair.
Nights were the hardest. Machines beeped softly while we sat around his bed pretending to be strong. Some family members had already given up emotionally.
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