“Another specialist?”
A doctor diagnosed a rare progressive neurological disease.
“We can get another opinion.”
“Then get me ten.”
Ethan squeezed my hand. “Mom.”
“No. Don’t ‘Mom’ me. I’m not quitting.”
I sold my car, some family jewelry, and practically everything that wasn’t nailed down.
We can get another opinion.
I had made myself a promise years earlier.
My younger brother died when I was nine. All I understood was that the doctors couldn’t save him.