The kind nurse that gave me apple juice wheels me out to the car. They mentioned an ambulance, but I think mom was scared enough as it was, so she offered to drive. They help me in, IV and all. I lean the seat back, almost wishing for that hard, uncomfortable examining table again, so I could at least stretch my legs out. Now I don’t want any more apple juice- just sleep. Oh precious sleep. But I keep myself awake looking out the window at streets I’ve been down numerous times. I know if I fall asleep, I’ll have to be woken up when we arrive at the hospital.
Mom talks to me a little. I don’t remember what she says. But we head toward town, and I see the tall buildings I’ve always admired, and dreamed of living amongst. And I see the sunset. Red and pink, the round sun glows as it makes its final descend of the day. It’s like it’s making its mark so that we’ll remember it later. I wonder what my friends are doing this lovely Friday evening. Partying? Having sleepovers? Going to the movies? I wonder if they know. If they know about me yet. I wonder if they feel sad. Are they worried? I don’t want them to be- I’m not. Are they praying? I hope so, oh, I hope so. I need that more than this IV. More than insulin. I want it more than food. More than a soft, long bed to stretch my weary joints out on. I need their prayers. But I have what’s most important- God’s love. His peace flows through me. And I’ve never needed it more than now.