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KWC Calendar
January, February, March?
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www.pixofevents.com
View photographs of The 19th Annual Night of Hope and the
2008 Joe McGuff ALS Golf Classic
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CHANGED |
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by Aubrey Lane Smith |
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I run. I play. I speak. I dance. I sing. She
cannot. Haley, my friend, was diagnosed almost a year ago with ALS, commonly
known as "Lou Gehrig's Disease." I watch her day to day, and every day I wish I
could hear her voice. I wish I could see her smile. Her story has become my
story, and my life has been changed. I will never be the same.
INDICATION
The concrete felt firm under my toes, even as I watched her fall to her knees. A
look of stubborn defiance colored her features, and everyone could see that she
didn't want any help. I waited as she struggled to her feet, her entire body
shaking from the effort. Then she began walking just as she had before the fall.
The same sequence of events occurred again, several times that night. Every time
Haley fell, she got back up on her own. That day marked the first indication
that something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong with my friend, and I
felt helpless.
UNCERTAINTY
The warm liquid burned as it flowed down my throat,
tasting of cinnamon, whipped cream, and mocha. The plastic wheels of a walker
rolled across the wood floor, announcing her presence. Everyone looked up to
watch her thin legs shifting her weight back and forth. Her limp right arm, a
useless appendage, appeared oddly heavy as it hung by her side. I smiled,
welcoming her, despite her disturbing condition. Although she could still speak,
most of the time she didn't, because it was becoming so difficult. In fact,
everything was becoming harder. Being her friend was becoming more difficult as
well, because I didn't know how to be her friend anymore, although this is what
I desperately wanted to do.
TURNING POINT
The medicinal smell of the hospital
was offensive, filling my nostrils. It smelled of sickness and death. Finding
the correct room was like wandering through a maze. Maybe I felt this way in
part because of my inner turmoil and my anxiety concerning my friend. In any
case, I was surprised to see colorful posters and get-well cards decorating her
walls. Some were even taped to the ceiling. As I stood beside her bed, I was
greeted by Haley's expressionless face. Tubes and needles covered her body, and
a machine was being used to fill her lungs with air because she couldn’t do it
for herself. She looked tired. I stepped over and around the medical equipment
in order to reach Haley's side. I spoke, but I can't tell you what I said. The
words probably didn't matter that much anyway. What mattered was being Haley's
friend. Even though I was still struggling to find a way, I knew I had to keep
trying. No matter what, I had to try.
TRIUMPH
Adrenaline pulsed through my
system in the form of nervousness and excitement. I carried with me a
houseshaped box. Within that box was the perfect gift: a gold teddy-bear with
wings. The bear sang Haley's favorite
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continued... |
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