I just can't sleep

I haven't been feeling well lately. Dad says it may be some kind of stomach flu or stomach bug... The point is, my stomach aches off and on without warning, leaving me to suffer not being able to move about as freely as I want. I can't laugh, cause it will hurt. I can't bend, cause it will hurt. Worst part is, I can't sleep!!

Okay, don't judge me on this. I felt like I needed protection. I felt like a helpless, sick kid that needed a parent to look after me. I haven't had that in a while. Some of you may know why. I'm quite alright by myself. I can't cook for myself and I definitely don't clean up after myself, but I don't like to bother anyone when I'm sick. For the past 3 years that my mom fought her cancer, whenever I got sick, I would often neglect to inform anybody, especially my family. Even if I did tell them, it would be like a light subject that I ran by them and I would never ask for any help. I usually prescribed my own medicine. Which included, warm water, honey water for a sore throat, everfessence for a mild flu, and if worse comes to worst, a couple of panadol pills for a fever(I do not recommend this on anyone, please don't try this at home.) My illnesses have been mild for most of my teenage life, so I never had to trouble anybody. I saw a doctor maybe once in 2 years?

But this year... I have seen a doctor twice already. First was sometime middle of this year. My tonsils got infected and that went on to cause me a slightly more serious fever than I would've liked. My dad had called in a favor then, to my youngest grandaunty to take me to see a doctor. Did I mention I have had abnormally large tonsils ever since I was a kid? That is not something I was or am very fond of, because everytime I saw a doctor about my tonsils, they all said the same thing. YOUR TONSILS ARE HUGE!! / THEY'RE LIKE KISSING TONSILS!! And I'd be like, I KNOW!! (In my head of course). I'd go on to tell them that it's been this way ever since I was a kid. Can't help it, can't change it, unless you remove it of course, but I don't want to get into that. That day was the same with my grand-aunt. He prescribed some medication including the oh so famous antibiotics and blablabla. I went home and did what the doctor had said. I rested and drowned myself with drugs and eventually got better.

Today, the sickness is different. It happened on Friday 26/11. It just happened out of the blue. At first we thought it was just food poisoning... So my aunt and older cousin from my dad's side gave me some charcoal pills that helped a few hours each day, but the pain never went away. So yesterday, my dad took me to see a doctor. I had, and still have no reason to trust this doctor but what choice did I have? He was this really really oversized man with a laptop and an iPhone laid out on his table to show off. He had this 'I don't care' expression on his face when he was asking me questions about my pain. My face was twisted with pain and he showed no signs of caring. He checked my temperature for a fever and used his stethescope to check my stomach? I've never had a doctor do that before. He pressed right where the pain was and I twinged in my seat. OWW!! To give a brave impression, I said nothing of course. Did I mention his laptop page was facebook and he had a green iPhone cover? That probably has nothing to do with his doctor's degree but I prefer having a doctor who shows a little bit more attention to his patients and at least puts on a pretend-to-care face instead of an expressionless one... He gave me the medicication and blablabla. You know the drill.

Okay, now back to the part where I don't want you to judge me on. I decided to sleep with my dad and sis in the master bedroom. It's a King sized bed so it can fit all 3 of us, but barely. I thought I'd feel safe there. More comfort. Having my dad watching over me like I was a little girl again. Having my sister hug me knowing that's the best thing she can do for me. Besides, I love her hugs. I love her. The first night was no fun at all. At that point, the pain wasn't that bad... yet. The reason I couldn't sleep the first night? Mom, it's you.

I slept on the right side of the bed. Next to it is the hospital bed that my mom used to sleep on. I put the teddy bear I gave to her just a few months ago on it, along with my usual medication and a bottle of water. I stared at it and teared. I realized then, that I wasn't going to get any sleep at all that night, if I was lucky, maybe just a few hours. I kissed papa and kaela goodnight and went back to my thoughts of her. The most vivid thought was her stroking my hair when I used to lie there in the afternoon, the way I was lying there that night, just in a slightly different angle. She would talk to me about my day in school and always said to be strong no matter what happens. Her stroking my hair and me cuddling up to her was my 'manja time'. I'm not embarrassed of it. That may be the only thing stopping me from regretting all the times I didn't spend with her when she was alive. I had a million thoughts in my head. Repeating every image of her I could think of. Tears ran down my cheeks, for the second time in her room. The first was the day I got back from school and saw her motionless body lying there. The day I should've skipped school.

The 2nd night, was when the pain got worse. This was a totally new level of pain for me. I usually say I have a high tolerance for pain, but I think I can no longer say that. That night I thought of mom again. But this time no tears. It was like she was comforting me and helping me get more rest, and I did. The pain was unbearable at times but I went back to sleep soon afterward. The 3rd night was just last night. Although I had just seen the doctor and taken all medication as told the pain was worse. My aunt said it was normal. It was 'cleansing' my stomach... Doc said I was dehydrated and had some sort of food poisoning, not a very doctorly opinion if you ask me. I didn't sleep for the first few hours, staring blankly at the empty hospital bed next to me, tossing and turning, cringing at my stomach at every little move I made.

The word in my mind has changed. It's no longer, 'She's gone'. It's 'Mom'. Just 'Mom'. I feel like I'm calling her in my head. I want her arms around me telling me it's going to be alright. Even in her last days on Earth, her skinny arms still made me feel safe. I should've kissed her more and showed more affection instead of being the typical teenager she said I would grow up to be when I was little. It's too late for all that now. I repeat that word in my head, I'm not sure why. To keep her with me? To hear the sound of my voice in my head saying a word I will never say again? Or maybe just to remind myself that I have a mother watching over me.

I love you, mom. And I am getting better. I finally got my braces off and I'm sure you can see my straight teeth from above:) I'm not sure why I permed my hair, maybe it's cause I wanted to be more of a mother's daughter. I always thought you were pretty with curls in your hair, so, I wanted to do that too. I haven't had a dream of you yet, and other relatives have. Why is that mom? I want to see you in my dreams. I promise not to be scared...