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He’s going to die

The night I realized Cooper was going to die.

It was just another normal night. Sitting around the table was me, my dad, and my grandma. The normal dinner conversations went something like this, “Hows Cooper?”, “Hows mom?”, “What did the doctors say?”, “What do they think is going to happen?”.
Tonight was no exception, except I pushed further, asking him what would happen if Coopers infection did not go away, what was the next step? What would happen?
I guess in hindsight me putting the pressure on my dad to answer what was going to happen was unfair, but I just couldn’t help but press on.
I NEEDED him to say the words. If they could not fix the infection, Cooper would die.

Suddenly he pushed his chair back and told my grandmother that we were going on a walk and would be back shortly.
We hadn’t even walked that far down the block when I turned to him and said, “is Cooper going to die?”
“If they can’t heal the infection, if they exhaust all options for a healthy life, then yes”

He was telling me what COULD happen, if they were unable to solve the infection. But what came over me was no longer what could happen, it was what was GOING to happen. I realized Cooper was going to die.
It was as if my whole body melted into my heart. My heart sinking in quicksand. Pulling me deeper and deeper into the ground until I finally gave up, it wasn’t worth fighting anymore because I had finally discovered the truth.

Not even a week later, my dad and I got the call that changed everything. It was my mom informing us that the infection was still there, and Cooper had decided it was time to stop treatment.
He really was going to die.

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