my family has concealed from me the true extent of my uncle's condition - i do not think there is or was any question of recovery - it is only a matter of how soon - but i never expected it to be like this - i thought either he'll be v weak but faintly cogniscent or else i would be too late in that he would either be comatose or dead but not this - him wide awake but no longer quite in control of his intellectual faculties - and there is no silence to be had in the room - every moment in the room, every single breath he takes, is the pained pant of oh my god oh my god. he is full of tubes and oxygen masks and has not slept for days because of the sheer effort involved in just breathing to stay alive - but at this rate he will surely also not survive. from sheer exhaustion, if he can get no sleep. when i came home and found the orgy of crying women i thought it was too late - and in fact i did arrived too late - the brain is shutting down processes from lack of oxygen and soon even the basic ones may go. and i desperately hate knowing this but he has gone beyond being able to recognise me. that is what i mean, too late. if i could have only come home last week he would have still been able to talk - but i couldn't because i had exams. piddling rubbishy exams for a 100 level class that was useless. the family, two or three at a time, take shifts in keeping a vigil beside him - i dropped off my luggage at home and had a shower and then went to the hosptial and was there till 2 this afternoon - this is a great strain for all the people involved because it isn't just sitting beside him and waiting - he doesn't sleep - and so neither do we - we sit and hold his hand and try to bear his crying and keep talking soothingly to him and crying silently and in my case, wiping my nose on my sleeve every few minutes. from time to time i have to leave the room to cry aloud. i can't keep any food down i keep throwing up whatever it is and now i'm subsisting temporarily on milo because it is at least mildly comforting and nourishing and if you throw it up you just make another cup. and i have a horrible headache i suspect from dehydration crying too much and probably from the exhuasting 40 hours of travelling and the papers and exams immediately before. i am tired but am afraid to go home because i am afraid it will happen when i am not there, but also because i cannot bear to walk out of the room the act of disentangling my hand from his grip and turning my back on his anguish seems too much like betrayal. some of th visitors cannot stay for more than a few minutes they cannot bear it - and i feel fierce anger about their cowardice - in the way i hated fritz in the blue flower for leaving sophie's side - but i also know exactly how they feel because i have to fight it in myself - so easy to run away and not see, but if i did - if i do not find the courage to stay through to the end, if i do not have the courage to suffer, then i will never be able to speak of courage in any form ever.