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It was around 5:30 AM, just another morning of my daily jog. But that day, something felt different. Ten minutes in, my breath grew heavy, my vision blurred, and suddenly, everything went dark. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, confused and disoriented.
The doctor informed me that a girl had admitted me, finding me unconscious on the ground. "Thanks to her, you're safe," he said. I felt an overwhelming gratitude and asked for her details to thank her personally. The doctor provided me with her number.
That night, after being discharged, I called her. "Thank you for saving me," I said. She humbly replied, "I just happened to be there and did what anyone would do." I insisted on meeting her in person to express my gratitude. She hesitated at first but eventually agreed.
The next day, we met at the mall. What started as a simple coffee outing became an unforgettable day filled with laughter, shopping, and games. As we parted, she smiled and said, "You showed me how to be happy." That moment stayed with me.
The following morning, fate brought us together again at the park. We walked and talked, and before leaving, I gathered the courage to ask, "Would you like to go out sometime?" She smiled, "Why not?"
Our first date was supposed to be a movie night, but we ended up talking more than watching. Dinner followed, and as I dropped her home, she playfully asked, "When are you asking me out again?" That night, I wondered if this was reality or a beautiful dream.
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and soon, we were inseparable. Love blossomed between us, and two months later, I asked her to move in with me. She did, and those were the best days of our lives.
Five months passed like a dream. One evening, as we played table tennis, I suddenly collapsed. She rushed me to the hospital. After several tests, the doctors diagnosed me with Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease (CJD) – a rare disorder that gradually destroys brain cells, leading to loss of consciousness and, ultimately, death.
Hearing this, my world shattered. She held my hand, tears streaming down her face. "Why you, Bachhu? Why does it have to be you?" she sobbed, using the nickname she had given me. That night, she fell asleep on my lap, her tears soaking my skin.
After being discharged, I noticed she had changed. She started working from home, never leaving my side. She devoted herself entirely to taking care of me, but in doing so, she lost the light in her eyes. No matter what I did, I couldn't bring back her smile.
Then, one fateful day, she went out for groceries while I searched for something to read. I stumbled upon a book on heart diseases, and beneath it, I found a medical report – her medical report. My hands trembled as I read it. She had Coronary Artery Disease, and in 3 to 4 years, her heart would fail entirely.
When she returned, I confronted her. "Why didn't you tell me?" I demanded.
"Because you're already suffering," she whispered. "I didn't want to add to your pain."
I took her in my arms and said, "We fight this together. I won't let you go."
The next day, we consulted her doctor, who confirmed her critical condition. The only hope was a heart transplant – but finding a donor was nearly impossible. Only a 5% chance. I couldn't lose her, so I started searching. A month passed, but there was no match.
Then, an idea struck me, a desperate yet certain decision. At my next hospital visit, I asked the doctor, "Can I donate my heart for her transplant?"
The doctor stared at me in shock. "You have CJD. Your heart is failing too."
"But it still beats," I said. "And she needs it more than I do."
I made him promise not to tell her. The transplant was scheduled for the next month. I spent every moment cherishing her, knowing our time together was slipping away.
When the day arrived, we went to the hospital for her check-up. The doctor admitted her and prepared for the operation. I requested one final thing: "Let us be in the same room. I want to hold her hand until my last breath."
That night, as we lay side by side in the operating room, I held her hand tightly. She was under anaesthesia, unaware of what was happening.
The surgery began.
As my heart left my body, I felt a strange warmth. My vision blurred, but I saw her – alive, breathing, her chest rising with my heart beating inside her.
In that last breath, I found happiness.
In that last breath, I smiled.
In that last breath, I knew – I never left her. My heart will always be with her.
Written by: Chotisistories | Chiranjiv 💓