Page 30 of Glad You Exist

Brad’s parents pulled some strings with the help of our dad’s connections here at the hospital and got Mom her own private suite with extended visiting hours.

Dan’s currently at home getting a much-needed shower and change of clothes. He’s been alternating with Aunt Rose, who is spending every Tuesday and Thursday night here at the hospital. Danny stays Sunday, Monday, and Wednesday nights; I volunteered to do Fridays and Saturdays. This weekend will be my first alone.

Last weekend, Aunt Rose stayed to make sure my mom got everything she needed. But Dan promised me that this week, I would get my turn.

Dan fought tooth and nail to be here more than three days, but Aunt Rose insisted that she would not let us do that. She wanted to do right by her best friend and make sure her kids still stayed kids. I love Aunt Rose, but I agree with my brother. We need to be here for mom. She has been suffering alone this whole time to make sure we didn’t suffer. This is the least we can do for her. I just wish she would wake up and talk to us already.Before…

I shut my eyes tight, willing that thought to go away. I am not ready for that.

Willneverbe ready.

I refuse to dwell on it now when I need to make the most of the time, I still have with her.

Mom…please wake up.

“Can I get you something, anak?” Nurse Zjan asks me in a quiet voice as she takes a seat on the couch beside me. When I first met her and she called me anak, I almost broke down. My mom calls me that sometimes. It translates to “my child” in Tagalog, a term of endearment Filipino parents call their kids. Nurse Zjan is a Filipina in her 50s who doesn’t look a day over 35. She has grown fond of Dan and me. She even brings us fruits and snacks from Seafood City, each time making excuses about buying too much, but I know why she does it. She sees two young siblings taking care of their dying mother and because she is a mom too, she wants to take care of us in her own way.

I open my eyes, knowing they are glistening with unshed tears, and shake my head.

“I’m okay, po.”

She pats my cheek but doesn’t push which I just love about her. She knows there is nothing anyone can do to make this situation better for any of us.

“I’m just a button away. Press it if you need me.” She gets up, checking Mom’s bed pan under the bed. “Leave this to me, anak. You have other things to worry about.”

I nod my response. The first day we were here, I took to dumping the bed pan out in the bathroom every hour because I needed to do something with my hands. But Nurse Zjan caught me. She gently told me it was her job then brought me towels and a bowl, showing me how to give my mom a towel bath. It’s as if she knew I felt a need to do something for my mom. Every day since then, I find a fresh set of towels and a bowl in the bathroom waiting for me. Even when she is off shift, it’s there. I’m guessing she made sure the other nurses on rotation know.

My phone vibrates in my bag, and I realize I have not checked it all day. Fridays are usually a short day for me, so I opted to just take the day off of school. I wanted to spend more time with Mom and give Dan a break.

I hit the side button and punch in my passcode. I wait as it takes eons to load because I’m frugal and haven’t upgraded my phone since middle school. Besides until recently, only my parents and brother ever texted or called me. With the occasional texts from the students, I tutored.

Most days, I forget I even own a phone.

I sigh at the number of messages I have. I appreciate their concern, but my mind has not had time to process this new reality yet. I’m already struggling with my anxiety and depression. Getting more overwhelmed. At the same time, I feel guilty for my lack of efforts. Brad texts me every day, and so does Kim. Kyle texts me every now and then but mostly just gifs or one liners intended to make me laugh. I’m guessing it’s because Summer probably updates him. She has taken a semester off school and is here with Danny most days.

Feeling like an awful sister for not checking on him more, I make a mental note of asking him how it’s going between them. I don’t remember even asking him how they started.

I start swiping and reading my messages, actually pausing to smile at Kyle’s gif of the day which is of a man peering over a bush and making a face. I can imagine him doing just that like he had when we were kids whenever he would get it in his head that it would be fun to scare Kim or me. Each time, it earned him a beating from her.

Man, how times have changed.

The last few days at school, they did their best to engage with me. To check up on me like I had accused them of not doing before. But I would just smile, nod, and mutter an excuse about catching up on schoolwork. At school, I have to wear a mask—I refuse to have a meltdown there. If they kept hovering like that, I knew I would—could—break at any moment. I started skipping lunch and just hanging out at the library. I cancelled all my tutoring sessions for the next few weeks. I lugged all my books and notebooks in my backpack so I could avoid stopping at my locker and inviting conversation. I communicated through email about our Social Studies project and responded to text messages—usually hours later—with one-word responses.

I didn’t have anything more to give than that.

But I do feel the guilt and miss how carefree we were as kids. Hanging out at Brad’s house, having sleepovers and staying all hours of the night just content to be with each other.

A few days ago, if you’d asked me, I would have said that was a possibility again, but now as I look over at Mom, I grasp that it really isn’t.

That first day after Aunt Rose had sat us down in the waiting room, Doctor Levin came out and explained to us in detail what the next months were going to look like for Mom.

Ifshe even lived that long. The good doctor made sure to emphasize that it was a bigif.

I don’t have the mental or emotional bandwidth needed to repair broken friendships when I have to focus all of what I have into taking care of Mom and giving her what she needs while supporting my brother through this.

I’m filled with an overwhelming sense of guilt as Dr. Levin’s words wash over me again. I never should have gone to school that day and insisted on driving her to that appointment. Instead, I took Mom at her word. She drove herself only to end up passing out and hitting her head hard on the steering wheel. She had unbuckled her seatbelt at some point but thankfully, she was coherent enough to park off to the side of the freeway. She was even able to text Dan her location and the word HELP before she eventually fainted. Dan didn’t even make it back in time to find her because someone had already called 911 when they saw a woman passed out in her car on the side of the road. Just as he was starting to freak out because he couldn’t get ahold of her, Dad called him to let him know that the hospital had called him.

She still had him as her emergency contact.

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