My mother was the one who took me to the hospital. I would've died if it wasn't for her. She blamed herself for not seeing it sooner... missing the red flags. I kept telling her that it wasn't her fault. She did absolutely everything right, but she won't change her opinion. Eventually, she cried. I was laying on her chest, she was careful of the tubes when I climbed on her. I was half asleep when I felt the tears running down my neck and listened to her muffled sobs. I didn't know what to do in that moment. My neck grew cold and my chest grew heavy, but I stayed silent.