He was fifteen years old. He had a name, like someone you know. He was tested for HIV a week and a half ago, came back positive and they referred him to our clinic. He came Monday, extremely sick, weak and feverish. The nurses weighed him at 72.5 pounds. The doctors suspected meningitis and pneumonia, took a chest x-ray to see if he had tuberculosis. Gave him some drugs to treat the infections. He came back this Friday, looked a lot better. Cough was down, no more vomiting—we expected the tuberculosis results back soon. Sent him home to come back this Wendesday.
Chest x-ray results came back today, positive for tuberculosis. The neighbor called, too. He was admitted to the hospital late last night with wrenching abdominal pain. He died at 3 AM this morning.
I mean, Christ, fifteen years old. Right on the cusp of life, just to have it cut out from under you like so much spare change. Just when you started to understand what it was to be a man. Fifteen years old
1 comment:
Brian,
I am sorry your new acquaintance parted so early in life. How adept of you to note he was on the verge of a new horizon in life. That experience has most likely placed you at a different horizon, also. Compared to this, past scenarios that seemed important may now seem irrelevant to you ...but they are all part of life. Your experiences, as-well-as both of your parents in their lifetimes, are probably emotionally deeper than any I will ever experience in my life. Consider yourself fortunate to encounter them.
Then there's your younger brother........ Take care! Colette
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