Dear Mummy,
Granny arrived at my hospital this morning. She's sharing a room with me, with two little beds next to each other. There's another bed a little further away, but no one is using it, so we have a room all to ourselves.
Granny told me how you spoke to her after doctor Gama dropped by her house, and how she immediately packed her bags to join me. She barely had enough time to tell daddy about me before she needed to catch the bus to Cachoeirinha.
We ate a piece of goiabada for lunch, even though I'm not allowed real food until my operation. I know it's just some guava jelly with a ton of sugar but, to me, it tasted like a slice of heaven with honey, cherries, and rose petals on top!
My hospital meals are the opposite of this. They are transparent and liquid, but nutritious, because I'm still able to write and tell jokes to granny. So this means I'm not starving, I guess. My food travels from a little bag hooked to the top of a pole, then along this mini tube, then down this needle that fits directly into my vein, in the crook of my arm. I'm not happy about the needle but I just pretend it isn't there.
There are many strange things happening inside my body, at the moment, which are really gross. Granny tells me this is normal because I'm sick. Sometimes, her eyes stick to mine, and I can see little tears forming in the corners. I think this is because she's too worried and so I tell her that I'm fine.
When I looked in the mirror a little while ago, I couldn't find my round cheeks anymore and that brought a pit in my stomach. But then I made a smile in the mirror and my dimples were still there, so I know I'm still me.
Thank you for sending me granny!
Zelia
P.S.I will write again after my operation
Hiya there!
I hope that you are rooting for Zelia, who is being very brave this whole time.
Where's her mum, you may be asking?
Read on to find out and please vote to show your support ;-)
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Mostly Unlady
Teen FictionZelia is a proud Brazilian kid, on the cusp of adolescence, trying to be good by regularly writing to her mother. But nothing makes sense to her lately... not the doctors who tell her she's faking being sick, certainly not the neighbours in her apar...
