Camisado.

July 7,2008

I can't help but feel on edge lately. It's been semi-good this summer. But of course the Elysa issue has gotten my head all fucked up. Instead of visiting her everyday, I've been avoiding going to the hospital. I don't know what it is. I've been avoiding potentially bad situations. I'm really getting a slap in the face for it though. Well actually, it's more like a kick. Goaall. I feel so crappy. And now she's in intensive care.

I got to the hospital and my mom and brother told me to brace myself. That she doesn't look the same as she did yesterday, and not to look shocked. We can't cry in front of her. We don't want her to worry, but she already knows what's happening to her. My mom said that yesterday, right before they sent her to the P.I.C.U. (pediatric intensive care unit), Elysa kept saying," I'm scared, mommy. I'm scared." That made me want to cry so much. But I can't.
As I walked towards the room I tried to look through the window. Elysa already had visitors and our big group wasn't allowed in, so only me and my mom went while the others were sent to the waiting room. I had a feeling that she lost her hair. When I walked in my cousins from my stepdad's side was there, My aunt's was coming back, but my little cousins were confused and couldn't take the stress they were getting. It was too much for them to take. They left crying. I can imagine how they must feel. The two girls were 7 and 9. And the boy was 12.

Elysa's lost most of her hair. In the front, near her forehead, she's almost completely bald. She just has a couple hairs left. I want to cry, but nothing's coming out. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. I don't feel like tlaking. I'm gunna come off as rude, but I'm blanking out. She has this band thing around her head to keep that breathing thing on. She's making noises on it. I don't want to talk. At all.

I can tell she's scared. Everyone's talking about that shirt mommy made for me. Elysa's wearing it. It's like a prayer thing. Reading it made two nurses cry. The back says ' to my blue-eyed angel. But she wrote that for the wrong daughter.

Her mouth is wide open. She has to be like that so that she gets enough oxygen. Her lips are so chapped and dry.

I looked at all the other hospital rooms. In front of Elysa's there were people crying and talking. In the room next to it, a guy sat down singing and playing the guitar to his child. i really do wish the best for these people. No one deserves this. No One. I know she's in so much pain.

It gets kind of overwhelming thinking about it. And then I can't breathe. But I love that little girl. She's my sister. My hero. And my best friend. Last time she was sick, I didn't really understand or even comprehend the extent of her state. And now that it's worse, I feel lost. They tried to protect me from this. From seeing her like this, and now the impact is 10x's harder. I knew what was going on, just not every detail as I do now. I swear, I cannot imagine life without that girl. She is my everything. She might not understand everything i tell her, but that girl knows all of my secrets, my triumphs, and my insecurities.

I put one of the old pictures of her as my cellphone wallpaper. I lov eher so much. If I could switch places with her, I would in a heartbeat. No way possible does she deserve this. Even now I view her as the family baby. She looks so small and vulnerable and is subject to massive amounts of pain. I always wish I could turn back time. Back to the day when I went swimming with my friends insetead of spending it with Elysa. It was a great day though. But I wish I could've spent more time with her.

I always remember the times when me and her have danced to Shake it! by MetroStation. I remember how happy were were just laughing and singing. It's one of the days I'll never forget. I just hope she remembers.

It's times like these I hate the most. Seeing her struggling in the hosital just makes me want to hold her. Just to reassure her that everything will be better. I know she's upset. She's been preoccupied with looking at her falling hair. The way she used to care about her hair always made me laugh. She was always so overprotective over it. Whenever we'd straighten or gel it or curl it or even when she'd get a haircut she'd say " No touchy my hair." The only time she was upset about her haircut was when she cut it really short. Kind of a boy's haircut. She didn't like it at all.

If she pushes through this, I'm gunna try harder. To be a better friend and sister. To be around more, and to appreciate her more. If not, I don't know what I'm gunna do without her.