The phone rang just after midnight—a call that changed everything in an instant. Even before picking up, a sinking feeling hit me. Hearing that my son had been in an accident and was in the ICU made the world shrink to a single point of fear.
The hours that followed were surreal. Hospital hallways, soft footsteps, and the steady hum of machines all blurred together. I stayed by his side, watching every small movement, clinging to hope while fear hovered just beneath the surface. Sleep, time—none of it mattered. All that mattered was being there.
By morning, exhaustion weighed heavily on me, but I knew I had to request time off. With shaking hands, I called my boss, trying to explain that my son needed me and I had to be there. A pause followed—long enough to expect understanding. Instead, I was met with words colder than anything I’d felt that night:
“You need to separate work from private life.”
