TRAGIC! 😰 Kim Menzies in Critical Condition After Sudden Heart Attack 💔 Jamal SHATTERED in Tears!

The poorly lighted hospital room creates long shadows over the clean walls. The only sound in the silence is the quiet beeping of the cardiac monitor. A slow IV bag pours clear liquid through a small tube into Kim Menzies’ arm.

She lies quietly, her body hardly moving, save for the gradual rise and fall of her chest under the hospital blanket. Her nose and mouth are covered by the oxygen mask, which fogs somewhat with every breath.

His hands tightly on hers, Jamal Menzies sits bent over at her bedside, desperate to feel the warmth of her skin to assure himself she is still here. His fingers clutch her as he grasps her hand. In this moment, his mother—the toughest lady he has ever known—seems so tiny and delicate.

He studies her face, watching, looking for any movement. One feels as though they are choking. He has never felt this kind of powerlessness before. It chews at his chest, poised to swallow him.

His imagination replays the horrific moment he received the phone call—the way his heart stopped upon hearing the words heart attack. The mind-numbing terror of not knowing whether she would make it. The hurried trip to the hospital.

Now seated beside her, the reality of it all falls over him. His mother—his support and defender—had practically disappeared from his life.

Trying to ignore the worst-case scenarios swirling in his head, Jamal closes his eyes. Her respiration is shallow and irregular. He cannot lose her. He is not going to survive it.

Entering the room to check Kim’s vitals is a nurse. She looks at Jamal and smiles somewhat sympathetically.
“She’s stable,” the nurse notes calmly. “Her vital signs are improving.”

Jamal nods faintly, his throat too constricted to respond.

Once more left alone with his mother, the nurse ends her check and silently leaves. Leaning forward, he rests his forehead on their linked hands. The room seems absolutely silent.

His voice raw, he says, “Please wake up, Mom. Please.”

The minutes run on without stop. He hardly notices the passage of time. His thoughts keep returning to their last chat before all of this—most likely one of her 90 Day Fiancé escapades.

They had been light-hearted about anything small. She had been giggling, her eyes full of mischief. That moment seems like it happened a lifetime ago.

Then he notices a small movement—a twitch. His head jerks up, and his eyes fix on her face. Kim stirs, her fingers weakly curling in his hand.

Her eyelids flicker open, and she lets a quiet groan escape her lips. Her eyes are first unfocused.

Jamal pauses to gather his breath. “Mom?” His heart thumps in his chest. His voice is just above a whisper.

Kim blinks, looking around the room until she finds him. Her exhausted eyes flutter with recognition, and then, with a weak, comforting grin, she says, “Hey, baby.”

Her voice is strained. Before Jamal can stop it, a choking sob escapes him. His body falls forward, his forehead pressed against the back of her hand, as relief floods over him.

His voice trembling, he says, “You scared the hell out of me. I thought I was losing you.”

Kim’s hand gently strokes his. “I’m still here.”

Jamal sits back and studies her face. She looks tired but alive.

Once more, the door opens. This time, the doctor walks in, carrying a clipboard. Though Jamal still feels tension twisting in his gut, the doctor’s expression is serene and soothing.

“Ms. Menzies, the good news is that there’s no permanent damage. You’ve suffered a small heart attack, but you’ll recover completely with rest and proper treatment.”

Though Jamal’s shoulders drop with relief, the tension lingers. He needs to be sure. He requires total certainty.
“But she’s going to be okay, right?” he presses. “This won’t happen again?”

The physician nods patiently. “We’ll need to make some lifestyle changes—reduce stress, monitor her heart closely—but yes, there’s no reason to believe she won’t recover fully.”

Jamal swallows hard, nodding slowly. His fingers still clutch hers as he turns back to his mother, as though fearing she might vanish.

Kim sees him, her face gentle. Even in her frail state, she is still attempting to reassure him.

After a few more directions from the doctor, he leaves them alone once more. For a long while, neither of them speaks. Jamal simply looks at her, savoring every detail—her weary yet friendly eyes, the way her lips softly curve into a reassuring grin.

At last, Kim breaks the silence. “You have to look after yourself, Jamal,” she says quietly. “I don’t want you breaking down over me.”

Jamal shakes his head and laughs weakly, gasping. “How can I not? To me, Mom, you are everything.”

Kim’s focus softens. She stretches out her hand, quivering slightly, and cups his face. “Baby, I’m not going anywhere right now. But I need your promise about something.”

Jamal nods, his throat constricted. “Anything.”

Kim lets out a long breath. “You’ll also look after yourself. Promise me. A son of yours is me. You really matter just as much.”

Fresh tears burn in Jamal’s eyes. He nods. “I promise.”

Content, Kim lets her eyes close for a time, tiredness overwhelming her. Jamal doesn’t let go of her hand—not yet.

The cardiac monitor keeps beeping steadily, rhythmically, and forcefully. She is still here. For now, that’s all that matters.