My sister is holding the big Chinese bowl in her badly agitated hand, which we occasionally use to prepare raw meat before cooking. The bowl is half full of blood under my mother's chin while mom is spewing out her pure blood as hard as she can, which evidently shows something's being stuck in her windpipe. The awfully miserable face of my mother makes me too tormenting to watch. Her eyes look frightened with tears blended with awful pain. The sharp, and most loving eyes of mom I see, feel and touch them hungrily for her love everyday-now are so worn to the time. She thrusts forward in pain to clear out the way for blood through her mouth. Platz, with the bowl handy, captures every drop in panic. Blood is on every side of mom's mouth, and stains all over my sister's hand and clothes for she has been trying to keep it out of the furniture where mom's lying on.

Dad is trying to compress mom's throat with a small bag of ice, and gently putting several ice cubes into her mouth. She tries very hard to cover her mouth with her hand, but it doesn't work. Blood is still flowing out like water escaping the dam. Every time mom spits out her mouthful of blood, it seems like she is five years older. "Stop coughing, mom!", my sister weeps hopelessly, "hold your mouth tight." Her voice is terrifying because she cannot do anything else to help mom. Her face looks pale and frightened as if she's experiencing the loss of her blood too. She looks away every time blood comes out of mom's mouth that ends up in the bowl she's holding. Her hands are shaken when she repeatedly grips mom's trembling, fragile body

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