BFF (Part 5)


This must be what helium balloons feel like.

Swollen and high.

I was so high that I couldn’t lift my head without tumbling.

I was so swollen that my words couldn’t fit out of my mouth.

Yet with both of those severe handicaps, I was shocked when the nurse said,

“No, sweetie, you can’t take care of yourself today.”

I began to protest when Alison stopped me with one word.


She placed a calming hand on my shoulder and said,

“Don’t worry.  I’m going to take care of you.”

And that she did.

Alison was my chauffeur who drove me to her home.

My doctor who picked up my prescribed medicine.

My personal shopper who dropped by the grocer for food.

My waitress/nurse who brought meals and doses bedside.

My bodyguard who shielded me from overzealous puppies.

My publicist who fielded all inquiring phone calls.

My maid who didn’t flinch at throwing out saliva and blood soaked cloth.

My commentator who kept me informed during reality T.V. viewing sessions.

My nightguard who made sure I fell asleep.

My friend.

My best friend.

I’m admittedly unused to being cared for.

I like and am usually on the other side of that gate.

But Alison reminded me that friendship is reciprocal.

With care and concern flowing in both directions.

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