My Brother Pulled Out My Mom's Oxygen Tube

My mother's condition had taken a turn for the worse, and she desperately needed a ventilator. But my brother, Dr. James Johnson, decided to give it to his "Second Mom," Sophia Brown.

That night, while my mother, suffering from a severe infection, passed away in agony, Sophia, who was healthy and wealthy, was discharged and went out with James to a fancy restaurant to celebrate her birthday.

As I was making arrangements for my mother's cremation, James posted a picture on Instagram of himself happily hugging Sophia, with a caption that read, "Happy Birthday to my mom on Mother's Day! You'll always be my mom!"

When I called him to tell him about our mother's death, he erupted in fury, shouting, "You and her should both be dead! Lying mother and daughter!"

As he wished, I was later killed in a car accident. When he saw the urns containing my mother's and my ashes, he lost it and killed his "Second Mom."

***

When I brought my struggling mother to the hospital, I saw James attending to a plump woman with gentle care, speaking softly to her.

Desperate for help, I rushed over and said, "Please, you have to help my mom. Her wound is infected and she's having trouble breathing!"

To my shock, James looked at me coldly, clearly annoyed.

"You need to follow hospital procedures. What does telling me do?"

His indifference was like a punch to the gut. But this was my mother. Even she weakly called out from behind,

"Let's not bother your brother; he has his job requirements."

With no other choice, I turned away and took my mother to register. I overheard James telling Sophia softly, "If you ever feel unwell again, just come to me directly. I've reserved a private room for you!"

I was stunned-- this plump woman was the "Second Mom" James had mentioned!

I wanted to confront him, but my mother's painful gasps drove me to find a doctor. The doctor said we needed a ventilator for her.

The cost was high, but I gritted my teeth and paid for it, then went out to grab some food.

As I rushed out, I saw James deep in thought. I grabbed him and said,

"James, Mom is really sick and needs a ventilator. Please check on her if you have time."

He looked surprised, "Mom is using a ventilator?"

I nodded, too anxious to think about the strange look in his eyes, and hurried off to get the food.

When I returned to the ward, I found my mother struggling to breathe without the oxygen mask, clutching the bed sheets, her chest rising and falling erratically.

Panicked, I screamed for a nurse, "Where is my mother's ventilator? She can't breathe!"

The nurse stammered, "Mr. Johnson came by earlier. He said your mother's condition wasn't critical and took the ventilator for another patient who needed it more."

The nurse's words hit me like a ton of bricks-- who could need it more than my mother?

Without a second thought, I ran to find James, determined to confront him about why he took away the one thing keeping my mother alive.

In a frantic search, I finally spotted him in the VIP room, the ventilator next to the plump woman!

"James! How could you take Mom's ventilator away?"

James sneered, "She was just complaining! The machine is for patients who need it more!"

I looked at the rosy-faced woman; it was clear my mother needed it more!

Desperate, I lunged to push the ventilator away, but James grabbed me and threw me to the ground, disdainfully shouting,

"Security! Get this crazy woman out of here! She's trying to sabotage medical equipment!"