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7- The Russo Guy

“So, we had discussed the brain tumour for a while.” The neurosurgeon started speaking.

Roni inhaled sharply and slowly walked out of the room. I decided to follow her. She was by the wall outside the room, inhaling and exhaling sharply as she clutched onto her chest. A nurse came out of nowhere with a wheelchair. Roni sat on it as she continued to wheeze for air. Another nurse came with an oxygen tank, placed the mask on her face and instructed her to breathe.

“Do you know if she has any history of respiratory problems?” another nurse asked me.

A lot was going on. I was more focused on making sure my sister was going to make it rather than hearing whatever these nurses were saying to me.

“Ma’am, do you know if your sister has any respiratory problems?” she asked me again.

“No- no. I don’t think so. Not that I know of.” I shook my head, my eyes still focused on Roni, who struggled to breathe.

I walked up to her, and she gripped my hand tightly.

“Roni, breathe. Everything will be
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