This weekend has been like no other. There were no parties, no trips to town, no lie ins, no hang over breakfasts... One of my best friends, Lauren, was sent to hospital last week. Loz has Cystic Fibrosis, a genetic disease that causes defects in the lungs and the digestive system. It wasn't until we were at the hospital, about to enter the Bear's room, when her mum said, 'now, try not to get upset when you see her' with tears in her own eyes, did I take in the seriousness of it all. From being completely optimistic and light hearted, I broke down and was sent to the waiting room where I saw family members I'd never met before, like her uncle who lives in the Caribbean. Suddenly it became clear that this wasn't Loz's usual hospital 'pop in, pop out'.
Over the weekend we've gone through ups and downs. Hearing the words 'days left' is enough to let you plummet into a dark hole you can't scratch your way out of. But hearing the Bear giggle is enough to sit you on a morphine induced cloud for an hour. It's shock, it's regret, it's hope, it's desperation. From friday onwards, we've stayed together. Jordanna flew back from uni, Tiff came back from skiing, we've spent every waking hour in each other's company, too scared to eat or sleep alone. We've pulled out our home-made cards and poems Lauren made for us, wore T shirts she bought for us... recalled those times she got too pissed at so and so's party. Only tonight, Tuesday night, did I take the plunge and drive home to be by myself. And surprisingly, it's quite nice. Other than in the shower, I've not had time to think. In the past 5 days I've seen Lauren, I've sobbed, I've cuddled, I've stared into space, I've drunk T, I've eaten eggs and bacon for dinner. I've needed and enjoyed my friend's company. But it was nice to crash out on my own, have a cry and sort my mind out.
I am looking forward to sleep.
