Most of the Time

Chapter 16

The door swung open with Sam covering his mouth and nose with his hand.

"What the heck happened. I thought you were okay" he bursts

I was in too much pain to speak. My stomach was felt as if it was being twisted and soon after I threw up, I threw up again. I drop to the floor and curl up in a ball, taking with me the only blanket uncovered in vomit. Sam walks toward me, taking a seat on the floor.

"I have to wake up Mom" he says

"No, no. Get that instead" I say pointing at the green hospital vomit bags I stole the last time I was there. He grabs them and I clutch a bag for dear life.

"How bad is it?" He says and I ignore

"My bad, on a scale from one to ten how the pain" He jokes

I throw up again.

"You're lucky we talked yesterday, or I would have pretended I didn't hear you." He adds

"You're so annoying it's not even funny." I stare at him trying to keep my composure then suddenly, I burst into a cry. I try my best to be a quiet as possible so I would not wake up my parents. But it was hard. This felt different then the other times. I wasn't just nauseous and vomiting, but I was nauseous, vomiting, and my stomach felt as if it was being ripped out.

"I don't wanna go back to the hospital Sam" I sob amidst liquid spilling out of my mouth

"Hey don't cry. You will be fine, you always are. You are way stronger than I will ever be. Also aren't you excited for hospital food."

There was a long pause. "If you throw up one more time, I'm going to get mom okay?"

"Okay" I murmured

The silence was filled with my groaning and grunting. I placed a cold towel on my forehead, drank more water, all my efforts failed. More vomit crept up my throat and before Sam could get mom, I threw up two more times. By then there was nothing left in my stomach to throw up but spit. The chunky, red, hot Cheeto tinted vomit turned into thick, yellow mucus. Mom tip toed in the room wrapped in a robe and Dad followed behind with a bucket of water and towel.

"Awe Emy" Dad says dipping the white washcloth in the bucket and wiping it across my face. Mom went straight to removing the sheets from the bed and putting on new ones. She couldn't even look at me. Dad held the plastic green disposable bag ready to bring it up to my face when I dry-heaved. We all knew what the next step was, but nobody wanted to say it. I didn't mind prolonging the inevitable, so I wasn't going to say anything. After throwing up five more times Dad said, "Let go to Nurse Angie first. Maybe this will all pass in a day"

"Nurse Practitioner" I correct

"I'll go get you some ginger ale" Dad says hoping it might be the sure

I knew it wasn't going to just pass in a day but I wanted to keep my dads' glass half full thinking going. Not for me but for him.

"Let's wait until the morning" I plead "Angie works a lot, but she won't be there at 4am on a Tuesday." I say "I think I can fall asleep"

I arrange myself comfortably on the floor and took the vomit bag out of my dads' hands. The pain subsided for now and I was going to take advantage of it. My parents knew that it was best not to force me to do anything I didn't want to do, especially in possibly my last hours of freedom. The throwing up did not stop. I periodically woke up every 30 minutes to vomit but there was period right after throwing up where the plan lowered just enough for me to fall back asleep.

Dad woke me up at 7am to take me to the hospital. I managed to grab the book I began reading, All the bright places, before we left. When I grabbed it, Dad looked at me as if I betrayed him. "It's for the waiting room" I told him.

When we made it to the hospital Angie quickly came out to see us. "What's wrong!" she said "We don't have an appointment today"

"I can't stop vomiting" I bluntly tell her.

"When did it start?" she asks

"Last night"

"Last night" she repeats "And you waited till now" She angerly tells me waving down a guy wearing a different color of scrubs then her own.

"You should be honored we waited for you" I joke

"Can you get a wheelchair and take her to the emergency room" Angie tells the guy in scrubs

"What! You didn't even examine me" I slightly raise my voice

"You need a CAT scan Emily." She yells back. I can tell she is worried. I can always tell. She lowers her head pushing her black bangs out of her face, "I'll see you after okay?"

I nod my head. The whole time I forget to make sure my dad was okay. He looked fine. Pale and worried but fine. I could tell he still had hope. We waited in silence. I threw up and he held the bag. Before they took me to get a CAT scan, they asked me a couple of questions. "When was the last time you had your period?" "Have been experiencing any morning sickness lately" I figured Angie told them about me already. Im pretty sure they think I'm pregnant. I gave the unconvinced nurse a urine sample and after the CAT scan she gave me morphine.

"Should I call Lily" Dad asks

"Not yet"

"I closed my eyes in an attempt to fall asleep and forget. Forget that I am in pain. Forget that less than 24 hours ago I was crying because I convinced myself that I had no friends, that Lily wasn't my best friend.

I was awoken by a trio of people in scrubs and Angie all sporting uncomforting faces. I didn't hear a word they were saying. I knew it was bad news.

My bed was wheeled up to a room by a guy who I could tell did not know his way around yet. I could have helped him, I knew where he was taking me, but I liked the ride. Mom and Sam later joined Dad and I. They stayed with me while Dad left for work. We didn't talk at all. We didn't have to.

I could feel my phonevibrating every so often. I didn't want to check it; I knew who it was.