Paulo greets me with a big smile as I approach. "Don't sit so far—I don't bite," he jokes. I ease into a conversation, asking, "When did you get to the hospital?"

"I don't remember," he says, shrugging. He tells me his parents passed away years ago, leading him to a care facility. "I'm five and four," he adds. "Fifty-four years old!" I clarify.

Born to alcoholic parents, Paulo has carried the weight of life-threatening illness since birth, though he can't quite recall his diagnosis. Yet, with a bright grin, he murmurs, "I'm going to get better."