Can't stand it

"It will blow over..." But it didn't. 

I'm trying to take deep breaths, but failing. Only little pants of air escape as I try every few seconds to get more air into my lungs. Cramps in my lower abdomen that only seem to be getting worse. Slowly increasing and spreading. My head hurts. "No! I must beat this!"

My legs are still moving. That's a good sign. But I don't think I can stand up much longer. "It really hurts, Papa!" I realize I can barely raise my voice to prove how much pain I'm in, but he seems to see it on my face. I imagine I look like some ghost whimpering in pain. He grabs hold of my hand and I squeeze it tight. He's holding on too.

By the time I reach the car, the feeling of vomiting is inevitable. My head's in total disarray. "Must bare it for another few more minutes." The pain has not lessen and I'm not sure I'm thinking straight anymore. There are so many thoughts running through my mind, so that means I'm still sane. "Oh no! Stop the car.."

Twice he has to do this for me, stop the car and watch people stare at me as I puke on the side of the road. Stupid long hair getting in the way. "Why doesn't the pain lessen now?" The cramps only get worse.

We're home. I rush to the toilet with whatever strength I have left. After though, the pain stays. I can't make it out. I sit there, outside the bathroom door, helpless and screaming. Someone hears me. Before I know it, I'm being laid down on the couch and sweat breaks our from every part of my body. I can't smell anything, but I'm sure I'm smelling pretty bad by now. "Aghh!!" The pain's till there. Anyway I twist my body, it stays. "Block it out!" I close my eyes and try and get some rest. My whole face is wet from my own sweat and there's a very unpleasant taste in my mouth. "No..." The voices around me start to fade. I can register them asking me questions, but I'm too weak to answer. 

This is not my death bed. I pray and pray and pray. A few hours later, I wake up feeling a little taken aback by my surroundings. A pail on my right, blankets all around me. "Is there pain?" I ask myself. "Papa.... Get me up." It's gone. I'm fine. I look up at my father and think to myself, "I needed you. You were there when I needed you. You do care." How blessed I am to have a Father who answers my prayers, and a father who watches over me and stays by my side while I suffer the weirdest moments of pain in my life. 

"Go dry clean your hair," he says. Now what does that mean? I'm better now. And I know I really need another shower, so here I go:)

Thanks for watching over me, mummy. I know you were here:)