Before her family could decide whether to pull the plug, she died.
She died on Saturday as a seemingly healthy forty-year-old woman. She died as a mother of three young children. She died from a bacterial infection.
I can’t get it out of my mind. My heart breaks when I think about the pain her two year old will face in the future. My heart breaks even more when I think about the pain her husband is facing now.
But, back to me.
I think I have the same bacterial infection. Last night, I was able to link the pain in my side, with what felt like a sore throat, and my contact with Sara, (who may be carrying the bacteria), to equal the infection. I was up until midnight in a fit of panic, debating whether to go to the ER.
I hate to be this way, so self-centered and weak. The woman dies and it’s about me dying.
A part of me knows there’s no way I’ve contracted the bacteria; another part of me knows that people would’ve said the same thing about Sara’s cousin.
Like I said, the world revolves around me.