How My World Changed Forever...Again

Coming Home

Colleen's POV
     It's finally time to go home.  I've only been here for for three nights and four days after labor which is really fortunate for having delivered multiples. Erik's packing up the room a little bit while I feed the babies which is all I feel like I do. I'm not complaining though. I've even gotten it down to feeding both at a time. "Lovey?" Erik asks sweetly, "what time are we out of here?"
"I think it's supposed to be 11. What time is it now?"
"Eight."
"Shit, I think somebody is supposed to be in here at like 8:30. I'm gonna finish feeding them and then will you help me change them?"
"Of course!"
Erik is literally the cutest human alive. I can't wait to get home and start my new life with him.  I look over at him, smiling.
     "What?" He says laughing.
     "Nothing."

Annie's POV
     Today is the day.  Today is the frickin day.  Katie's being, yet again, discharged from the hospital.  It's amazing the world of difference four days can make.  When she visited us at the gym the other day, she could barely stand.  Now she can walk without crutches.  It's not good walking, and usually she still uses them, but it's still progress.  She's completely aware and awake.  Though she is very much still not better, she's not worse.  She's starting a clinical trial at the very end of December, so until then, she's chemo free.  Doctors say she can handle it.  That she'll be better off without it.  That she'll be healthier without it.
     With Katie coming home, we get to fly out to LA in two weeks to see the babies.  And the best part is, Colleen doesn't even know it.  Katie didn't think she was going to get to go out there until June of 2020.  Now here we are.  This just goes to show how unpredictable this horrible disease is.
     With Katie being healthy and chemo free for a while, Jill jumped on the opportunity to try to get an approved trip, and the doctors agreed.  So in less than two weeks, Katie's going from being completely bedridden to being on her way to LA.
     Today, we're packing up her hospital room and saying goodbye to all the kids in her ward.  I have spent nearly every day after gym at the hospital with Katie which means I have also spent a lot of time "causing trouble" with the other kids on her floor. The kids I've met are truly incredible. Some of them are five and six years old; some of them are closer to Katie and me. On good days, we walk around the hospital gardens, play in the rec center, or do arts and crafts. On bad days, I stay by Katie's bedside and we watch movies and YouTube. When I'm not at the gym, I'm at the hospital. I'm not even just doing it to be with Katie anymore; of course, she is my number one reason, but all the kids here are like my best friends now. Like, there's this little girl named Gabby. She's ten years old.  I met her in an instant and now I hope I never loose touch with her.
     Though I love making the patients smile, it's really important to me that I get to see their siblings.  I've been there.  I know what it's like to sit in a hospital and wonder if your brother will come home alive.  It was a little different; these kids are terminally ill and their families know it.  We didn't know Caleb was sick.  But I remember the day like it was yesterday, and it was the worst one of my life.
We weren't allowed in the hospital room.  Instead, we sat in cold, vinyle chairs right outside the room.  Hayley, Katie, and me.  We pretended not to hear my mother's cries and the loud beeping of various machines.  My hands covered my face as I cried for what felt like a lifetime.  No one tried to stop me and no one looked twice.  I remember, Hayley grabbed my hand and wouldn't let it go.  She didn't get it.  She didn't know what was going on.  Katie, the look on her face will be forever burned into my mind.  She stared blankly at them wall in front of us, disbelieving all the events of the last hour.
     At 7:08, Caleb was pronounced dead; just an hour after we arrived at the hospital.  I remember seeing my moms face first; she came out in the hall to get us.  We had to go in the room and say goodbye.  That was the hardest day of my life.
     And because of it, I will never see children who are rushing to finish up homework the morning before school or eating dinner at the hospital that consists of whatever their parents picked up because no one is home to cook the same.  We didn't have a kid in the hospital for long.  We didn't live that life.  But we did live a life that, for Hayley and I, got completely turned upside down and shaken up.  Then we were left to survive in the real world. There were days where we didn't do school.  We didn't eat substantial meals.  Nobody told us to shower or get dressed.  Because for the first time in our lives, we weren't the center of attention.  That's a hard thing for kids to learn.
     The worst part of it all was feeling so alone.  Sitting in that empty hospital corridor, I will never forget the feeling of my world crumbling down yet the people walking by had completely different realities.  There comes a point when you realize you are the only one here on earth experiencing your own situation.  And it takes a lot to get you to that point.  But after you see it, you can't unsee it.  My experience with Caleb did that for me.  So now, every time I look into the eyes of a sibling of a kid in Katie's wing, I see myself, four years ago.