Chasing White Rabbits

The cacophonous coughing envelops me. My primary focus becomes the distressed sound of breathing emanating from the suddenly frail-looking weakened body lying next to me. All the hopes and dreams I have for him now narrowed to a very focused and minute request, “just breathe.” It’s such a small request, one we normally take for granted, but here and now, all I request is that the lungs relax enough to allow oxygen to saturate those brain cells that allow wholly human consciousness to take place. The nebulizer’s hum becomes comforting instead of mechanical; delivering a steady stream of vapor-filled medicinal bliss to my son’s lungs. Who knew I’d ever realize the beauty of the exact moment a tight cough would transcend into a more relaxed one; more importantly, who knew the depiction would be so important? We take it for granted. The hopes and dreams for our children forecasted 30 years in the future, but some medical conditions, either a slight momentary distraction or a longer chronic medical condition appears and our gloriously-flawed mental illusions are brought into high-definition focus. What matters, primarily, is health. I listen to the labored breathing, wretched coughing, wheezing; tears slide down my face. Just breathe.