“Stage four cancer… just weeks to live…” These words echoed in my head as my world turned upside down. My husband was dying. The diagnosis was dull. I was crushed.

When we saw Dr. Matthews about Eric’s condition, his face said it all. I knew something was terribly wrong. And that’s when he told us that Eric had stage four cancer and only weeks to live.

The news hit us like a ton of bricks.

Eric needed to stay at the hospital, and in the days to come, I spent most of my time there, being supportive and assuring him everything was going to be alright.

I cried my heart out at the thought that Eric could leave this world, but the doctor told me I should be prepared for the worse.

As I was pacing the hospital halls, I felt like I needed some fresh air so I went out and found myself sitting on one of the benches. And that’s when SHE appeared, a nurse in her late 40s. Wearing navy scrubs and shoes worn by someone who spent long hours on their feet, she sat next to me.

“Set up a camera in his ward,” she whispered. “He’s not dying.”

“What!?” I yelled. “What are you talking about?”

“Just do what I say, you deserve to know the truth.”