Support

The bad news came today. A friend of mine has been in the hospital since Thursday. It was one of the routine surgeries. They were removing an enlarged thyroid. From what I understand, the surgery went well, but late that night there was a reaction to her pain medication. Things have gone done hill from there, she went into Cardiac Arrest, there was no oxygen to her brain for 15 minutes, then there were various seizures, followed by a medically induced coma. She has been this way for 3 days now. She was neither improving nor getting any worse, until this morning. This morning the Neurologist said that things were definitely getting worse. She was given 48 hours to live. I do not know how I feel about this yet. I am not really great friends with this girl. I know who she is and I enjoy her company; she is an amazing girl.
My worries are more focused on one of my closest friends. Steph has been with her through it all. She was there for the recovery stage of the original surgery and everything that has followed. There has been little sleep for Steph and lots of stress. As our friend’s mother falls into denial Steph is taking the brunt of everything else. She is co-coordinating family arrivals, listening to Doctors reports, trying to keep up beat and available to all. So as I sifted through the fog of shock at this morning’s news all I would think was that I needed to somehow be there for Steph. This is a heavy load. Not one I have ever carried and so I cannot even understand it fully. But I know that this is not an easy thing. But I cannot take it away. All I can do is be here for the times when it gets too much. Or to take care of the little things she needs. Like the tracking down a phone number or picking up a meal. I can’t do anything big, but I can take care of the small things to lighten the load for her. So I felt the need to be at the hospital, not to see Alicia. I adore her, but I am not here for her. I am here for Steph. I hope she realizes that. I brought my laptop and a book. I sit here in the waiting room as family and various friends travel in and out of the ICU. I ponder about life, friendship, and family. I listen to the stories of those that wait around me. I have set myself at the one happy spot in the waiting room. Across from the vending machines. Next to the widows. I figure that is as happy as it gets here.
I will do what I can. Maybe it is foolish. I fear that people look at me and see someone who doesn’t really know Alycia but is cashing in on the Drama. I have had people think that before. It is uncomfortable feeling, but for my friends I will do anything. So I will patiently wait to see if I am needed. Sometimes we all need to know that someone will be there when we fall, even if the fall never comes.