Ann Martin - Stacey's Emergency

The rest of us were laughing, and I said, "Sorry about that. If you want a padded chair, you have to leave the hospital."

"Are you guys finished?" asked Claud. "I

want to tell Stacey what's going on."

We tried to compose ourselves. "Okay. Go ahead," I said.

"Well," Claud began. "First of all, even/one misses you. When you open some of these cards, you'll be surprised to see who they're from. People are always asking about you, wondering when you'll be back home."

"Like who?" I wanted to know.

"Like everyone. The Newtons, especially Ja-mie; the Perkinses, especially Myriah and Gab-bie; kids at school, including . . . Ross Brown; Mr. — "

"Ross Brown?" I interrupted. (I had this incredible crush on him.) "Does he know I like him?"

Claudia shrugged. Then she grinned and said, "He likes you."

Wow. . . .

"Mallory's been collecting the mail for you and your mom," spoke up Mary Anne. Then she interrupted herself by saying, "My, these chairs are comfy." (We laughed.) "Anyway, yesterday she gave me the interesting-looking stuff. That's here along with everything else."

"Great," I replied. "So what's going on at school?"

"Let's see," Dawn answered. "Alan Gray got suspended for setting off a cherry bomb in the boys' room on the second floor."

"Gross," I said.

"And Cokie got a nose job."

"What?" I cried. "You're kidding!"

"Nope. That's why she's been absent."

"So what does she look like?"

"Like she got a nose job/' said Kristy. "You can always tell."

"That's funny. You never noticed my nose job," I said.

Kristy turned pale. "Your nose job?" she whispered.

"Just kidding," I said.

There was a moment of silence. Then we all began to laugh again. We laughed so loudly I was afraid a nurse would come in and kick my friends out. But nothing happened.

"Okay, open your stuff," Claudia finally managed to say. "Open the cards first. Then open the packages."

"Yes, Mommy," I answered obediently. I picked up the envelope lying nearest to me and slit it open. Inside was a get well card, handmade by five-year-old Claire Pike. GET WELL SON it read, which made us giggle.

"Mallory warned me that the card was a little off. Claire didn't want any help with it," said Dawn.

"I like it the way it is," I announced. " 'Get well, son.' " (More laughter.)

I opened up card after card. In the middle

of this, a nurse came into my room (not Desma Diamond or whoever that other nurse was). She drew some blood, and then she left quickly. She didn't say anything about my having four visitors, which is not allowed. This was because Claud and Dawn were hiding in the bathroom.

"The coast is clear," I called, as soon as the nurse and my blood sample were gone.

Dawn and Claudia returned to the bed. I continued opening cards. I had never seen so many! There were homemade ones from some of the kids I sit for, and store-bought ones from the kids at school, the parents of some of my baby-sitting charges, and even three of my teachers.

"Now for the presents!" cried Claud.

"No, wait," said Mary Anne. "You're forgetting. Remember what's — " She pointed to the hallway beyond my door.

"Oh, yeah," said Claudia. She dashed out of my room and returned carrying the world's largest get-well card. It was at least two feet by three feet.

I felt relieved. I was a bit dizzy, and just the thought of opening the presents made me feel more tired than ever. I also felt sort of clammy. And shaky. It was weird. But I tried to hide this. I didn't want to scare my friends.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, looking at the card

that was so big it blocked my view of Claud. "Who's that from?"

"Everybody," answered Kristy.

And it was. The card had been signed by parents, teachers, kids, my friends' brothers and sisters, and of course, my friends themselves.

I was exclaiming over the card when that same nurse burst into my room again. She appeared so quickly that Dawn and Claudia didn't have time to duck into the bathroom.

Uh-oh, I thought. Now I'm in for it. I've broken the sacred two-visitor rule.

But the nurse barely noticed my friends. She bustled to one side of my bed and abruptly turned off the I.V. drip, although she did not remove the needle from my arm.

"What are you doing?" I cried.

"Your blood sugar level is dropping," the nurse replied. "Doctor Motz will be here any second. And your mom's on her way up from the cafeteria."

As the words were coming out of her mouth, I heard a voice on the intercom system paging Dr. Motz.

Claud and Dawn stood up. So did Kristy and Mary Anne. They backed away from the bed and huddled near the doorway.

Nobody, except the nurse, said a word.

Just a few seconds after the I.V. drip had been stopped, Mom raced into my room. She had beaten Dr. Motz. "Hi, girls," said Mom as she whisked by my friends. Then she did a double take. "Where did you come from?" she asked. But she didn't wait for an answer. Instead she began whispering with the nurse.

I felt a cold wave wash over my body and settle in the pit of my stomach, where it sat like a block of ice. I knew something was wrong. Again.

Dr. Motz ran into my room then. He took one look at my friends and said, "Okay. Everybody out. Right now."

"Everybody out?" echoed Claudia.

"On the double," said Dr. Motz, not bothering to look at Claud. He began examining me and talking to the nurse.

"We'll see you later," called Claudia in a trembly voice.

"Yeah, we'll wait outside until they let us come back," added Kristy.

"Okay. And thanks for all the cards and ..." My voice trailed off because my friends had disappeared, wanting to escape Dr. Motz, I guess. But I had seen something awful on their faces: fear.

They were afraid for me.

So was I.

By the evening, however, I felt better. Also more optimistic. After a day of testing and consulting, Dr. Motz had come up with a new solution to my insulin problem. I was to start injecting myself with a mixture of the kind of insulin I'd been using before plus a second kind of insulin that I had not used before.

And now that my blood sugar level was more normal, I had some energy and was hardly dizzy at all. I had even eaten dinner.

"Mom?" I said when the frantic pace of the day had slowed down and just my mother and I were left in my room. "Can my friends come back now?"

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," Mom replied. "They finally had to leave. Their parents wanted them home by six o'clock."

I didn't answer her. I stared out the window.

"Claudia said to be sure to tell you to open your cards and presents as soon as you feel like it. She said she's sorry they had to leave, but that they'll call you tomorrow or on Monday before the club meeting."

"Monday ... I thought I'd be out of here by Monday/' I said.

"Well ..." Mom replied helplessly. And then she began to put on her coat. "Your father will be here any minute."

Was he working today, on a Saturday? I wondered. But what I said was, "Mom, can't you stay here until Dad comes? I want the three of us to be a family again. Even if it's only for five minutes."

"Stacey — " Mom said.

"I'm sorry," I interrupted her. "I understand that this is a bad time for you and Dad, but if we could all be together for awhile, then . . . well, it's really important to me. Really important."

I knew I wasn't playing fair. I knew that I was pressuring Mom because I was sick, and that she would give in because she felt guilty. But she did give in. She removed her coat and sat down again.

"This evening may not be what you're hoping for," she warned me.

"Yes, it wiU. It'll be wonderful." I couldn't believe Mom was staying! "Maybe we can watch TV together, or — "

I stopped talking. Mom wasn't listening to me. She was looking at the doorway.