Rashid is 34; S'Ahmisa is 33; Sabazo is 5, Terilyn and Elsa are 3
The alarm startled S'Ahmisa from her sleep. "Rashid, turn off the alarm!" She reached out and was met with the cold blanket. She groaned as she lifted her weary body and turned off the alarm. Rubbing her eyes she looked back at the bed, but it was still empty...cold.
With the tears came all the memories of the last three simdays. The family celebrating Sabazo's birthday, the hot humid air sticking to her skin.
Rashid sneezing, fighting a stubborn cold. The twins running around the new yard.
Ming being impressed with the views from their new home and asking her opinion about the gated neighborhood.
Sandy wondering what was taking Rashid so long to come back from the kitchen with the birthday cake. Her comforting smile as she reassured her mother that it was probably nothing and going into the house to find her husband.
Finding her husband, just as she thought she would, in the kitchen.
In the kitchen, face down, on the floor.
They had him rushed to the hospital where the doctors had said that complications from a viral infection now meant that he was in a coma. A deep sleep for his brain to heal.
He would be out when he was ready.
But he wasn't ready.
His body wasn't ready.
It wasn't good news.
He wasn't getting better.
You have to make a choice, the doctors said.
There's nothing else we can do, they replied.
She screamed and cried.
She demanded that the best specialists that money could buy be flown in. The best treatment, the latest research. She was a Warwick and money wasn't an issue. Warwicks got things done and she needed her husband awake.
The doctors just shook their heads.
I'm sorry, they said, there's only so much we can do.
She knew what they meant.
That money couldn't buy everything.
It couldn't cure everything.