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He tried to focus his eyes as he emerged from his slumber. All he could see was white - ceiling, walls, window blinds. Another hard night sleeping in a hospital, he thought as he rubbed his eyes. His head was throbbing, probably from sleeping on the wooden arm of the chair again.

Waking up in a hospital was not a strange occurrence for Moses Preston, whose mother Mildred was battling cancer. Often, Moses’ nightly visits turned into overnight stays, especially on those occasions she needed her son’s presence just for her own peace of mind.

Mildred, in her mid-fifties, had been fighting the disease for three years. After two surgeries and more radiation treatments than Moses could count, she was feeling better but she had a long road remaining in the hospital.

Moses’ vision was slowly starting to mix in shapes and details with the vast whiteness. He groaned as he struggled to turn over.

“Moses? Son, are you awake?”

Although he couldn’t see her, just the sound of his mother’s voice suddenly brought the world into better focus.

“Yeah, Momma,” he said as he turned his body some more and raised his head in the direction of her voice.

Her beaming face was a nice way to start the day, he thought. Her smile quickly disappeared, however. Her eyes were red, her eyelids puffy.

“How you feeling, Momma?” he asked.

It was then that he noticed his mother was sitting in a wheelchair. She wasn’t lying in a hospital bed.

He was.

“Momma, what’s going on?” he asked.

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