Watching the clock

"Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."               --  Christopher Robin to Pooh

I think about this quote, I have passed it everyday on my way in to see my baby sister. Now, as I sit next to her bed, I survey her hospital room. I read all the numbers and charts, looking for any thing out of the ordinary. My eyes stop on the "crash box" just above and to the side of her bed. I simultaneously hate and love this clock at this moment. I love that it now reads 96 hour 45 minutes 30 seconds since we nearly lost my little sister. I hate the fact that it is even needed.

I lean in close to her and whisper "Good Morning." Her eyes dart open and study the room for a second before they find mine. "Hi there little sister." She blinks her eyes slowly, calmly as if to say "Good Morning" back. Then she tries to speak, the nurse would tell me later that every time she tries to speak she feels some pain. The tube that goes down into her lungs must burn with each word she tries to form, so this must be important. I lean in closer to read her lips.

After a few attempts, I finally make out what she is trying to ask me, "When are you leaving?" "Not until you are better," I say in my heavy-big-brother voice. She just looks up at me, but her eyes say "thank you." She doesn't need to thank me. "There is NOTHING that will keep me from you when you need me. I will always be here for you," I reassure her.  She lies back and relaxes her shoulders. Big brother is here baby "Tus" you can be at ease. 97 hours 00 minutes 27 seconds, 28 seconds, 29 seconds ...

The nurse comes in and tells us that the doctors are about to come in and perform a procedure on her, and they will need to give little sister an anesthesia. Her eyes immediately tear up and she frowns, she HATES anesthesia. "It's OK. It's OK," I rub her forehead and squeeze her hand. I try to think of something to help her relax ... I start singing.

"Rise up this morning. Smile with the rising sun. Three little birdies, each by my doorstep. Singing sweet songs, of melodies pure and true. Saying, 'this is our message to you ...' " Her shoulders relax again.  99 hours 23 minutes 46 seconds, 47 seconds, 48 seconds ...