The day the music died

It's been over three years. The day we celebrated my brother's Birthday. She made her homemade coffee cake, and little did we know that it was the last time we'll ever have that cake as the next following day she collapsed, and seeing her carted off in a wheel chair was the last time I saw my Mum alive.

It was just us three. Me, my Mum, and my baby brother. In the first week of the lockdown that had changed our very lives as my Mum was the first to go, then my aunt, my best friend, and then my Grandma. All these death were not covid related but due to the policy of the hospitals setting their appointments so far back, especially when it came to treatments like type one diabetes, and cancer. My Mum had alarming call that there was some anomaly in her blood work and that she needed to be in the hospital but the lockdown had forced many appointments to be pushed back.

I get angry every time anyone mentions the NHS, their decisions to put this pandemic that seems like it is a passing dream these days to bypass almost everyone that had already got life threatening issues be put aside.

My Mum died of sepsis just if people wanted to know. She never stood a chance because she was not diagnosis soon enough the moment they found the anomaly in her blood.