The Other Side of Tomorrow

“Willa, are you sure you want to be alone right now?” he asks me.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you guys are here, but I’m going to go to sleep and you guys need to sleep too. It’s silly to try to do that here.”

The three of them exchange glances.

“Seriously,” I laugh. “I’ll be fine.”

My mom sighs. “Fine, okay. We’ll go, but we’ll be back early, hopefully before you’re awake. Do you need anything before we go?”

I think for a moment.

“Can you grab my book from my bag?” I ask, pointing to my backpack leaning against the wall in the corner.

My sister laughs. “We should’ve known she’d want her book.”

She goes over to my backpack and pulls it out, placing it on the tray beside my ice cup.

I finish my water and my mom takes the cup from me, handing it across the bed to my dad so he can throw it away.

“Go, go,” I encourage them. “I’m sure the nurse will call you if I need you.”

My mom nods. “Okay. I love you.” She kisses my cheek and moves out of the way so I can hug and say goodbye to my sister and dad.

I watch them leave, and I know they don’t want to go, and while their presence brings me comfort, I know they need their rest. I’m sure they haven’t slept at all since I woke them up this morning.

It’s crazy to think that only a matter of hours have passed since I got that phone call.

One phone call has changed my life forever.

I pick up my book and open it to the bookmarked page. I read while I munch on ice and it isn’t long until it feels impossible to hold my eyes open.

I put everything back on the tray and adjust the pillow.

My eyes barely close when sleep overtakes me once more.

I’m sitting up, eating French toast with a bowl of fruit when my family returns.

“You’re up early,” my mom exclaims, and I don’t know whether she’s merely surprised or happy.

“I was hungry,” I admit.

I woke up at five in the morning with my stomach growling. I rang for my nurse and she put in an order for my breakfast but it didn’t come until ten minutes ago, a little after seven.

At this point, my head throbs slightly with the need for food. I take small bites and chew them slowly, for fear of getting sick from lack of food and whatever kind of medicine might be in my system. I woke up at another point in the night and they had to give me medicine. I don’t remember the episode much, but I know there was crying involved.

“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling hungry.” She takes the seat nearest me, placing her purse on the floor.

They all look rested, but not well-rested, and freshly showered.

I wish I could shower, but I know my body isn’t ready for that yet. I haven’t even been up walking yet. They told me the doctor will be by soon to take the catheter out and then they want me to try to walk.

I’m scared it’s going to hurt, but I know fighting them will only keep me here longer and I want to go home.

I want to be in my bed, with my things, and I even want Perry. His furry body would provide much-needed, and appreciated, comfort at the moment.

Piercing a piece of cut up French toast, I dip it in the plastic container of syrup. It doesn’t taste that bad. I remember eating it almost every morning when I was in the hospital after my diagnosis.

“Did you guys eat?” I ask.