"I want to hang on as long as I can," he said, his voice muddled through the oxygen mask. He was afraid to go to sleep in case he didn't wake up again. He was afraid to take morphine in case it made him go to sleep. But he was breathing better now with the little morphine we'd managed to convince him to take overnight.
I held my tears in check. It's easier when they've had time to make their peace with death.
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