After feeling sorry for myself yesterday, I showered. I missed a phone call, from my friend. I saw the blinking light on my phone, signaling a message. What I heard on the other end of the phone, broke my heart.
Her voice was panicked. She was screaming and crying. She could barely catch her breath. My friend, my dear friend, living so far away, across the ocean, was out of her mind. Her tiny baby is dying. She is not even four months old. She has been sick and in the hospital since she was born. Her condition is deteriorating.
They are flying back here, today. They were going to take the baby to Children's Hospital in Philadelphia, but have been told that she should be in a hospital, close to her family, and the people who love her.
I cried, standing in the kitchen. I was making black bean soup, and I left the kitchen, littered with cans. I went into the bedroom, and tried to wrap my head around what my dear friend must be going through. Molly came in the room, and saw me. She said "Kay?" She was worried. Charlotte came in, and handed me a miniature piece of paper. On one side of it, it said "I love you", and on the other, was a drawing of a sun, with long sunbeams radiating off of it.
Huge smack in the face.
Please help this baby. Please help my friend. I prayed. Chanted. Whispered. To something. Someone. Anything.
I miss you Nichol. So much.