“It’s been three months. You’re telling me she hasn't gotten better at all?”
    “I'm sorry, Ma’am. There's nothing we can do but wait,” I heard a voice I didn’t recognize reply.
“Mom, is she gonna get better?”my little brother asked.
My mother released a long sigh before whispering in reply, “I don’t know.”
“What’s wrong with me?” I tried to ask, but the words didn't escape my mouth.
“I recommend keeping your options in mind as we get further along. If she doesn’t get better, you can make up you mind.” the unrecognizable voice said again.
“Money is tight right now. Will costs go down or stay the same if she continues?”
“There is a chance that costs can go up if she gets any worse, but it should generally stay the same. Most patients eventually gain consciousness, but the others try wait it out. Sometimes money becomes too big of an issue so the surrogate will choose the final option. It’s impossible to tell whether or not your daughter will make any progress, but it is your choice for what the next step will be.”
“Mom, what’s the final option?” my little brother asked.
“Don’t worry about it sweetie. Everything will be fine.”
“You don’t know that. You just said you didn’t know.” This was followed by silence. All I could hear were beeping noises and what I assumed was the air conditioner starting up.
The silence was interrupted by the unknown man clearing his throat. “Again, you don’t have to decide anything right now. Just take your time to process all of this before you decide anything. I’ll come to check up on her in a while. If you need anything, call a nurse.”
“Thank you,” my mother said as the door closed.
“Do you think she can hear us, Mom?”
“I can hear you!” I tried so hard to scream. “I can hear you!”
“I don’t think so,” my mom whispered to my brother. It was a while until I heard the door open again.
“How are you?” I heard my father ask.
“I’ve been better,” my mother replied.
“You know, I-”
“What are we going to do?” She interrupted him? “We can’t just pretend this isn’t happening. It’s been th-three months. She-She’s made no progress.” Her voice was shaking and her sniffles were causing her to stutter.
“I know it’s happening, but we can’t do anything about it. The doctors don’t even know what to do.”
“They said costs could go up,” she cried. “We can’t keep doing this for long. They won’t give me a raise and I’m working multiple shifts. We can’t keep up with the bills.” My mother’s light cries turned into sobs.
“It’s okay, Mom,” I desperately wanted to say. But again, my body didn’t work with my brain. I wanted to cry. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, where I was, or how I got here.
“So we’re just going to give up then?”
“I think we have to. We don’t have the money to pay, and we’re already in debt.” My mother whispered. Her voice sounding like she had given up. The silence returned to the room, but it was longer this time.
Once again, it was interrupted by the door opening. “Have you decided anything yet?” The unrecognizable voice returned.
It was a while before anyone spoke. “Yes, we have.”