Cynthia Brown

Moments That Scar

The first thing I notice is the weight of my body. I felt pinned down on the bed. My limbs were no longer a part of me, no longer under my control. The weight of the room was even more stifling. I looked to my left and I see the concerned, sad eyes of my brother, Andy. He looked older than when I last saw him but in my mind, he will always be the boy who carried me up the tallest hill in our childhood home after I twisted my ankle so badly that I couldn’t walk myself, even though I was the same size as him at that time he didn’t let that stop him from helping me when I needed him. I wanted to hug him and tell him it was going to be okay. He was dressed in a protective gown, mask, and hair covering, to protect me. This left only his eyes visible, but that was all I need to see to know that the situation was serious. His eyes displayed all his sad thoughts plainly to me and they told me that I was in trouble, that whatever was happening was leaving him heavy. As I tried to look to my right to see the person standing there, I am hit with a wave of pain so strong I could not breathe and the more I tried to breathe the more I felt like I was choking, and then I realized I was. There was a tube in my throat blocking my airways and with every attempted breath I gulped the tube and squeezed it with my throat repetitively sending continued waves of pain as I tried with effort to do the one thing this whole situation was all meant for, I wanted to breathe.