The doctor explained that my father had suffered an episode of arrhythmia that required intervention and monitoring. He was conscious, stable at the time and was going to remain hospitalized for investigations and adjustment of treatment. He couldn’t promise there would be no complications, but he told us that he had responded well to the care received.
My mother started crying for relief. I felt the knees almost give in to me. In the middle of all the revelations, I had forgotten for a few minutes that my father could have died that night.
When I entered the salon, I found him lying in bed, with electrodes on his chest and a monitor next to him. He seemed older than I had ever seen him. His eyes were tired and pale skin, but when he saw me, he tried to smile.
- Hey, my little girl.
I got closer to the bed.
