I lie down next to Misha in the late hours of the night. I've always had sleeping problems..I mean, it sometimes takes me hours to fall asleep. Sometimes I become really grumpy with Misha and it makes him upset, but I refuse to tell him it's because of my insomnia because I don't want him too feel bad for me.
I'm currently cuddled up next to Misha's side, watching his chest rise up and down. He is, of course, sound asleep. Late at night, I always have these random, deep thoughts. Like, I always think of Misha and I's future. If we're going to have kids, if we're going to die old together....It makes me feel happy.
I feel my eyes start to close and, eventually, fall asleep...
I jump up as I feel hands shaking me awake. I see Misha's face is inches from mine. He has a look of pain and terror plastered on his face.
"Grace..somethings wrong." He points at his lungs and the oxygen tank. My heart nearly stops and I instantly get up and help Misha downstairs. We quickly get our shoes on and head out of the door.
I make sure he gets in the passenger seat okay and then I turn the keys and speed to the nearest hospital. The drive there feels like an eternity. I try to go faster but I can't risk getting pulled over.
Minutes later, I pull into the hospital's parking lot. I wrap my arm around Misha's waist and guide him through the front doors. I can tell he's having trouble breathing and is in a lot of pain.
A nurse sees the condition Misha is in and quickly shows us to one of the emergency rooms. A doctor rushes in to see what the problem is.
"I need you to wait outside. He could loose even more oxygen if you crowd him." the doctor tells me. I can barely understand the words he is speaking. I only look past him..at Misha.
"But-" I start.
"Just stay here." He interrupts me, closing the door behind him.
I walk over and take a seat outside of the emergency room. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and take a long, deep breath. I hope Misha will be okay..
*One hour of waiting later*
"You may come in now." A nurse tells me.
I eagerly stand up and follow the nurse to see Misha sitting up on the hospital bed. I run over and give him a soft hug, being careful not to hurt him just in case he is in pain. His eyes are puffy from crying. I kiss him on the cheek before turning to the doctor.
"Misha's lungs have gotten dramatically worse. There's really no explanation why, they just collapsed." He tells the two of us.
"Will he be alright?" I whisper, barely audible.
The doctor hears me and replies with, "Well, our tests have shown that instead of fifteen years, he only has up to five years to live."