“Jordan!” I cry out the minute I see him.
When Jon still hadn’t got out of bed, I went to check on him. He was still asleep at 2 p.m., so I walked over to the side of the bed and shook him gently. I panicked and yelled for him, because after shaking him, he still wouldn’t open his eyes.
Leaning down, I place my fingers on his neck to check if his heart is even beating. Thankfully, it was and so I tried to wake him again. Nothing.
Realizing that I must do something, I grab my phone and call an ambulance. While waiting, I sit next to him on the bed and hope that I am wrong, because if I am right, he may not ever wake up. As I sit there silently, tears fall well up in my eyes and then cascade down my cheeks.
Why? Why does this always have to happen to us? Why can’t Georg
