My parents got sick the week after I got sick.
That week, it was just me and my little brother. He’s 16. It was a little rough, I have to admit. We’re not used to being alone without our parents.
The last time I talked to my dad, it was 3 in the afternoon the day we dropped him off at the hospital. He’s in the ICU, so we call them every day just to check up. We’re not able to talk to him because they sedated him and he’s on a ventilator. When my mom got out, she could barely walk up the stairs.
I’m the type of person who doesn’t like asking for help. I had my mom’s card with me, and we pay our bills online, so I learned how to pay the bills.
When I hear the stories of Black and brown girls and gender expansive youth who provide care to sick or disabled family members, themes of love and...