I am usually someone who prepares, thoroughly. I do this with everything and while it stresses me out I also enjoy it in a weird way. Nothing could prepare me for certain events that unfolded, no matter how much I previously speculated death.
C came into the room where Jesse was intubated. She used her mask to cover her eyes. When she peaked at her dad, I heard a whimper of horror. She kept saying “I don’t want to see him like this.” So we had her turn around so she could speak to him. She began crying and asked “Daddy, are you going to be at my birthday,” which was in a few days. I cannot tell you how many painful things I have experienced but that is definitely one of them.