I write these words to you with my hands trembling and tears streaming down my face. My heart is torn apart, my soul melting with pain, and time is passing like a predatory beast approaching to take my little child away from me. He now lies on a hospital bed, his tiny body trembling, his breath slowly fading under a ventilator. His eyes are half-closed, as if life is escaping him right in front of me, and I am helpless, devastated, unable to save him.
The doctors told me that the only hope to save him is urgent surgery, but they are demanding an amount I cannot afford.
They told me words I never imagined I would hear: "Either you pay immediately
or we will disconnect his ventilator." Imagine, my friend, your child being sentenced to death, not because there is no treatment, but because you do not have the money. Imagine seeing your beloved child, a piece of your soul, having their air sucked out, their hope snatched away, while you stand helpless, your hands empty, your heart screaming without anyone to hear it.
I'm scared... so scared. Every minute that passes robs him of his life, and every moment I spend without help brings me closer to the nightmare I don't even want to think about. Please, my friend, I beg you with every tear I shed, with every cry I hold tight to my chest, help me... save my child.
Any amount, any assistance, any sharing of my story could bring him back to life.
I'm not asking for much. I just ask that my child not be taken away from me before my eyes, that I not live the rest of my life remembering how he died because I didn't have enough money to save him. Please, before it's too late, before everything becomes just a painful memory, don't leave me alone in this horror... Don't let me bury my child.