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Dear Auntie Brown,
One of the hardest days in my life September 28, 2008, the day we thought we were going to lose you. My first reaction when we found out about you needing the surgery was “Is my aunt going to be okay?” I then started to cry as the reality of it hit me, and my heart started to sink. I still remember the day like no other. You were under sleeping gas, and were barley awake. I stood by your bed holding your hand crying uncontrollably. You told me “Brandon don’t cry”. Which actually made cry worse as you were wheeled away on the surgery bed. All kinds of thoughts went through my mind that day; will I see my aunt again?, Will she be the same?, God, I love my aunt. Wish I had the chance to really tell her how much she means to me. Literally, I began thinking life’s not promised tomorrow.
I showed my feelings that day loud and clear, crying like a kid at a candy store who can’t get any candy. The surgery was about 9 hours, the anticipation of the situation made it seem like a lifetime. The doctor said about 1 in every 300 people survive this surgery with no complications. Were you that 1 in 300?. I remember me, and Brittney (Aunt’s daughter, my 1st cousin) sitting outside the hospital on the curb, crying and telling each other how much we love you, and all the walmart trips we made, even when we were broke, just to get out of the house. We talked about our whole lives in about an hour it seemed like. Seeing you in the surgery bed made me feel helpless. You seemed to be in so much pain, and I could only stare, and pray.
In the waiting room I could look around, and see everyone in pain. My mom, Jazz, Lonnie, Grandma, Ana, Joe, and Britt. All crying, no words were spoken except the sounds of sorrow. The doctors at first said you maybe have a 50/50 chance of survival. One day we came to visit you, and the nurses had tampons in your nose, and ears. You were bleeding all over. I could see pints of new blood going into you, and the same amount...