Cutis was shocked and bewildered, not understanding what terrible thing had happened. The morning had started like any other—calm, routine, and predictable. But within moments, everything changed.
He had just come home from school, tossing his backpack onto the couch, when he heard an odd sound from the kitchen. It was a dull thud, followed by the clatter of dishes. At first, he thought his mother had just dropped something. But then, there was silence.
“Mom?” he called, stepping toward the kitchen. There was no response.
A wave of unease washed over him. His mother was always quick to answer, even if she was in another room. He quickened his pace, pushing open the kitchen door. What he saw sent a chill down his spine.
His mother was slumped over the counter, one hand gripping a glass that had tipped over, spilling water across the surface. Her head was bowed, and her breathing was shallow. Her skin looked pale, almost gray.
“Mom, are you okay?” Cutis rushed to her side, shaking her gently.
She stirred slightly, opening her eyes halfway, but her gaze was unfocused. Her lips moved, but no words came out.
Panic surged through him. His mind raced with a thousand questions—what had happened? Was she sick? Was she hurt? He reached for his phone with trembling hands and dialed emergency services.
“911, what’s your emergency?” a calm voice answered.
“It’s my mom! She—she’s not responding properly. She looks sick. Please, send someone!” His voice cracked with fear.
“Stay on the line. Is she breathing?” the dispatcher asked.
“Yes, but it’s shallow. She’s really pale.”
“Okay, stay with her. Help is on the way. Try to keep her awake. Can you do that?”
Cutis turned back to his mother. “Mom, stay with me, okay? Help is coming. Just stay awake.” He squeezed her hand, feeling how cold it was.
Minutes felt like hours. Every second was agonizing as he watched his mother struggle to keep her eyes open. He didn’t know what to do—he felt helpless.
Finally, sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder until red and blue lights flashed through the window. Paramedics rushed inside, asking questions that Cutis tried his best to answer.
They checked her pulse, her breathing, and her pupils. One of them nodded to another, speaking in a voice too low for Cutis to hear. Then they lifted her onto a stretcher and carried her out.
“We’ll take her to the hospital. You can come with us,” one of the paramedics told him.
The ride to the hospital was a blur. Cutis sat beside his mother, watching the monitor beep as they checked her vitals. He couldn’t stop his mind from spinning—what had caused this? Was she going to be okay?
At the hospital, nurses and doctors moved quickly. They asked him more questions, but he barely understood them. All he could do was sit and wait.
An hour passed before a doctor finally approached him. “Are you Cutis?” he asked gently.
“Yes. Is my mom okay? What happened?”
The doctor sighed. “It looks like she had a severe drop in blood sugar. Do you know if she has diabetes?”
Cutis froze. He didn’t know. His mother had never talked about it.
“We’ll need to run more tests, but she’s stable for now. She just needs rest and monitoring. You did the right thing calling for help.”
Relief flooded through him, but the fear still lingered. What if he hadn’t come home in time? What if he hadn’t heard the sound from the kitchen?
After what felt like forever, he was finally allowed to see her. She was lying in the hospital bed, looking weak but awake.
“Mom,” he whispered, stepping closer.
She turned her head slowly, a faint smile appearing on her lips. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Tears welled up in his eyes. “You scared me.”
She reached for his hand. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t feel well… I didn’t even know what was happening.”
Cutis sat beside her, gripping her hand tightly. “The doctor said you had low blood sugar. Do you have diabetes?”
She hesitated before nodding. “I was diagnosed a while ago. I thought I could manage it on my own. I didn’t want you to worry.”
His heart clenched. “Mom, I need to know these things! What if I hadn’t been home?”
She looked guilty. “I know. I should have told you. I promise I won’t hide anything from you again.”
He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Good.”
The next few hours passed with doctors explaining how she needed to monitor her sugar levels and eat properly. Cutis listened carefully, determined to help her stay safe.
By the time she was discharged, things felt different. His mother was still the same, but now he knew the truth—she wasn’t invincible. She needed him just as much as he needed her.
As they walked out of the hospital together, she squeezed his hand. “Thank you for saving me.”
Cutis smiled, holding her hand tightly. “Always, Mom. Always.”
