I remember being about 12 years old, when my mom got suddenly ill with a case of dysentery, being the eldest daughter I was assigned the task of staying with her overnight at the clinic. I had never seen my mom that sick before, yet the urgency of her state eluded me. All I knew was that we would go to the clinic, she would get some medicine and we would come back home.
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You are reading page 2 of The Daughter, The Patient, The Mother, and The Woman