The hours and days seem to be running together as Shelly and I sit together in Philip’s room. We tell him how much we love him and that we know how much he loves us. We kiss him and hug him, we reminisce and we sing songs. He occasionally opens his eyes and tries to say something ,but it usually comes out as grunts. We really think he might be understanding some of what we are saying to him. Sometimes, we sit quietly and just let him rest. The doctors tell us there is no possibility that he can recover. His body is being kept alive by machinery; his lungs are being aided by a breathing machine, his kidneys are no longer working and a dialysis machine is doing all of the work, his liver is failing, he is unable to take in anything into his stomach because the digestive system has shut down. My heart is breaking as I watch my sweet son being held up by machinery and medication.
I always promised him that I would tell him the truth about his condition, which I have done. I can’t really say how much he understands and yet on some level I feel that he knows. The understanding we had between us was that I would not keep him alive if he were to become more dependent; yet, he still opens his eyes and makes contact. My heart and soul are breaking, I want to do the right thing by him. Yet, where there is life there is hope. We need G-d’s intervention.