And Then I Woke Up

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“And then I woke up.”

I sat in the chair beside the bed and smiled at my daughter, Katherine, the current inhabitant of the bed. Her bed. And it was never “Katherine.” She always insisted on being called “Katy.”

“That’s how I used to end all of my stories, or most of them at least, when I was writing them in school.” My daughter sat there beneath the blankets, legs stretched out, laptop on lap. She giggled at me in the way 12 year old girls might giggle at their silly parents.

“That’s a silly way to end a story,” she admonished playfully. “I’m not ending my story like that,” she proclaimed. “My story will have a definite ending to it.” She put a strong emphasis on the word ending, making it clear her goals.

beep

I tried to steal a peak at the laptop she was occasionally jabbing a finger at, but she gave me a quick scowl at turned it away from me. “An artist never shows her work before it’s done!” She tried to stay serious, but was overcome but a rather amusing case of the giggles.

Standing from the chair I strode to the end table to pour her a glass of water. Inevitably the giggles would morph into a case of the coughs which hurt her throat. Allergies, I kept telling myself. Sure enough the coughing then started. It sounded painful. I passed the water to her and sat back down in the chair, watching her while she sipped from it to sooth her throat.

beep

“Will the artist at least amuse her captivated audience by telling them what the story is about?”

She took another sip before answering, then nodded as she passed the half-empty glass back to me. “It’s a school assignment,” she explained. “We need to write a story in the style of a Greek myth. I am writing about the unknown Greek heroine Sofia, who gave the Argonaut Orpheus an enchanted lyre that she knew would help the Argonauts escape the sirens.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, summarily impressed by both her knowledge of Greek myths as well as the amount of effort she must have already put into the background of her story. “I had no idea that his lyre was anything special at all.”

beep

“Of course you didn’t,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. “I did say that Sofia was unknown, after all.” Her snark was impressive for one her age. I already began to dread her teenage years. And then she broke into a brilliant smile. “But I will tell you how her story ends. After you get me a snack,” she added after a pause.

“Fruit Loops?” I inquired, pretty sure I already knew the answer, which was a nod in the affirmative. “Fruit Loops,” she confirmed.

beep

I padded across the room to the cupboard and found a single-serving pack of Fruit Loops, her favourite snack. I would have called it her favourite night-time snack but, in reality, it was her favourite snack at any time of the day. I didn’t even bother to get her a bowl. Or a spoon. Or milk. She would snack on them dry.

“So, Sofia was the daughter of one of the Muses,” Katy began as she reached out for the Fruit Loops, “And she was very beautiful.” Katy continued to explain, around small mouthfuls of Fruit Loops, how Sofia’s long, flowing hair won beauty competitions, and how fluidly her dancing was, and how clear and crips her voice was. By the time that Katy reached the point of explaning just how Sofia had come into possession of “the most beautiful and amazing lyre in all the world,” as she put it, the nurse walked in through the door with a friendly, though apologetic, smile.

beep

“I’m sorry,” the nurse apologised as she strode toward Katy. “It’s getting late, and you should try to get some sleep.”

I moved to the foot of the bed to allow the nurse the room she needed as she checked the IV that was dripping fluids into Katy’s arm, the various wires attached to Katy’s chest to monitor her heart rate, breathing, and whatever else they needed to try to figure out just what was wrong with my daughter. My precious, beautiful, daughter.

It wasn’t just allergies; I just told myself that to hide the fact that no one yet knew just what was wrong. All the tubes and wires and medical devices doing I-don’t-know-what could not yet tell us what we didn’t already know, which was that Katy was very, very ill. I kept hoping this was just a nightmare, but I knew it wasn’t.

beep

And then I woke up.

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