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Sunday, March 23, 2008

Missing my friend

I feel like I am still waiting for something to help me get through this. I wanted to call Kenya today to tell her something. Something was bothering me about another friend. I almost dialed her number- well almost pressed number 3 on my phone to automatically dial her- after all I have not taken her number out of my phone. I am still holding on to the text messages. I still visit her myspace page to listen to her songs and read her blogs. Without looking at her myspace page I can see her face so vividly, I can still hear her distinct laugh. And I can also see her face, the last time I saw her when she was in the hospital. She was uncomfortable, asking the nurse for pain medication and getting a dumb response, "Okay (sighing), um I can talk to your doctor about it but he probably won't agree to it," the nurse said. Kenya has asked for a morphine drip because her pain, at that point was sharp and it was becoming more consistent.
"Okay what is the procedure or steps I need to take to get it or can I just talk to him?" she asked softly. (This is important to note- because it would have been understandable if she raised up on her.
"I'll see if he is still here," the nurse said walking away.
This was Super Bowl day- I remember this because they (Baptist Hospital) were offering a Super Bowl meal consisting of wings and celery. I saw the little flyer by her bed. She put in an order and asked if I wanted any. I declined.
Some doctor came in after about 15 minutes. It wasn't her doctor. He seemed nice. Talked slow and often looked over at me. I wanted to give him half a peace sign- I mean why wash he looking at me. I wasn't the one moving around and groaning in pain in the bed. More silly questions:
"Miss Tillery, what's going on? You say you need something for pain?"
Calmly she explained why she wanted the morphine drip. The pills they were giving her (vicadine) was not doing anything anymore. It wasn't strong enough.
"On a scale of 1-10, how intense would you say your pain is?" he asked- looking over at me again. I squinted my eyes at him.
After explaining that it was probably at an eight, he told her that he would see if her doctor was available.
"WTH?" I thought.
I have that memory and I try to tell myself that she is better off- because I would not want her to be in pain. A pain that I didn't know.
Am I selfish to still want her her though? I still want my friend here. Now that she is gone, I want her to come talk to me. I want to know for sure that it is her. I want to know that she is okay. Days before she died, she was having a mental breakdown about the doctor saying that there was no hope. That would be hard for me- to have to tell someone that there was no hope for him/her to live. It has to be hard to hear that and not know what to do. But even then, I really felt that she would be okay.
I still miss my friend. I realize it is okay to miss her and to still cry. She meant a lot to me. I wish we'd had more time together. I never thought the day would come when she would not be here.

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