Read Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul on Tough Stuff Online
Authors: Jack Canfield
Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul on Tough Stuff (27 page)
“Meghan, this is Dan Welch,” Lee said to me.
The kid looked at me with bright-blue eyes, smiled the biggest, whitest smile I'd ever seen and said, “Hey, what's up?”
Little did I know that this was the beginning of the most important friendship I'd ever have in my life, and that I would grow to love that smile (not to mention that laugh) and depend on it to get me through some of my worst days. Dan made me laugh, made me cry, picked up the pieces when my life seemed to fall apart, and always managed to keep me smiling. We had staring contests that I
always
lost and wrestling matches that I usually won. He paged me when my favorite songs were on the radio and didn't care when I sang at the top of my lungs to them in his car.
For about a year, the three of us spent as much time as we could together. They were my life. Lee and I had our ups and downs, but no matter how many times Lee and I fought or saw other people or made each other mad, we always found our way back to each other.
Then at the end of August 1999, my heart was broken. Dan and Lee were going off to college. And even though they were only going forty-five minutes away to Boston where they would be roommates at Northeastern, I thought I was going to die without them.
But it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. My parents didn't mind the phone bill too much, so I got to talk to them every day, and we talked online, too. They came home every weekend. On one of those weekend nights, they called me from Lee's house to tell me they were coming to pick me up so I could go play Lazer Tag with them. As much as I wanted to go (I had been bugging them for a while now about going with them), I had to tell them no since I had to get up early the next morning. I was on my way out the door to the mall when the phone rang at 7:45. The last person I expected to hear from was Nick, who had gone with them. He sounded different, kind of shaken up. He told me they were just waiting for the game to start so I thought nothing of it. When I got home from the mall I found out he'd called again, right after I had left. I thought that was odd, so I called him back. As soon as he opened his mouth, my body turned to ice.
“I have bad news, Meg . . . Lee and Dan were in a car accident tonight on the way to Lazer Tag.”
I almost dropped the phone. This was not happening to me. Not to the two people I loved most in the world. I wouldn't believe it.
“No, Nick, I don't believe you. You would've told me when you first called . . . no, you're lying! How could you lie about something like that? I hate you!”
Right before I hung up, I heard Nick yell, “I'm coming over right now . . . wait for me. . . .”
I went downstairs, still shaken, and waited by the door. I expected to see the three of them come up my steps laughing at how “gullible” I was. But when Nick walked up alone, I knew he had told me the truth. I could see it in his face.
“Nick, please tell me they're okay . . . they have to be okay! Nick, tell me!” I didn't know what I was saying; I could barely see straight I was crying so hard.
“Lee's in the ICU in Boston. I don't know if he's gonna be okay or not. No one would tell me anything.”
“And . . . what about Dan?”
No answer.
“Nick, tell me he's okay!” I yelled.
“I can't, Meg. . . .” Nick got very quiet and looked down. “Dan didn't make it. I'm so sorry, Meg . . . I'm so sorry. I was going to tell you earlier when I called you before, but I couldn't tell you . . . not like that, not on the phone.” Nick was struggling for words, and I was struggling for breath.
“No!” I collapsed against him, crying. He pulled me into his arms and just hugged me. One of my best friends was dead, and my boyfriend was in intensive care. It was too much.
Nick got me into the living room and told my parents the details. Lee and Dan had been following Nick and a few other people in Dan's father's Blazer. Dan had lost control of the truck, and it crashed into the guardrail, flipping over and throwing them out. They didn't have their seat belts on. Nick had called me from the side of the road on his cell phone. He told me later that he had needed to hear my voice; he had needed to know that at least one person he cared about was okay.
Somehow I made it through that night. I went to see Lee at the hospital, and his mom told me he'd be okay. He had a broken cheekbone, a dislocated shoulder and some other injuries, but he would be okay. He didn't know about Dan yet, and everyone was worried about how to break the news.
I spent the next week in a daze, just going through the motions. Nothing mattered to me anymore. I cried myself to sleep every night, and even cried throughout the day. How do you go on without your best friend?
Telling Lee about Dan was the hardest. His parents told him, and he didn't believe it at first. Eventually he realized it was true, and when he did all he could do was cry and hold my hand. I didn't know what to say, so I stayed pretty quiet when they told him. It was a sad moment for all of us and a life-changing one for Lee.
It's now been almost a year and a half since Dan's death. Lee is fine now, physically, but emotionally we're both scarred for life. There is a part of us that will always be missing, a place in us that will always have Dan's name on it. I've been to his grave countless times, and I talk to him every night. I would give anything to have my best friend back. Nothing and no one will ever take his place. But I know he's watching over me. He once promised me that he would always be there for me and that he'd never let me down. I know Dan, and I know that he'll keep that promise forever.
Meghan O'Brien
My mom and I fought all the time. She worked full-time as a waitress, so she expected me to take care of Kimmy, my six-year-old sister, and to clean the house. This one day I was frustrated, and I didn't want to do the dishes. I asked her, “Why do I have to do everything?”
My mother dragged me outside and put me in the car. She looked at me and said, “You know what AIDS is, right?”
“Yeah, I know what that is. I heard about it on TV,” I muttered.
“I have AIDS; Kimmy and I both have AIDS. We have AIDS, Maria, and I can't fight with you anymore. I need you to help me.” Then she went back into the house.
I remember sitting there stunned. I didn't know what to do. I didn't cry; I was just so scared.
Just the week before I had seen the AIDS quilt on television. I saw names of people who had died from the disease. I thought,
This doesn't relate to me.
And I had switched to cartoons. I was only twelve years old, after all.
Now, the two people I lived with and loved had AIDS. My mom had been infected through a blood transfusion before my sister was born. This was back in the early 1980s when they didn't check blood supplies.
My mom did not want me to tell anyone because she was afraid of people's reactions. After she told our church leaders, they asked her not to bring Kimmy back to Sunday school. She had gone to her church for support and instead found out they were afraid they would catch the disease.
So we kept it a secret and moved around a lot. I didn't have many friends, and that was really hard on me. My days were spent going to school, coming home to take my mom and Kimmy to doctor's appointments, paying bills, grocery shopping, cleaning the house and taking care of them at night. I got frustrated sometimes not having a normal teenager's life. I wanted to do normal things, but this was my mom and sister. It felt right to be there with them.
After a while, I became less frustrated. For the longest time, every birthday I would wish for a cure, for them to be okay and not die. My wish changed as they got worse. I started praying to God, “Please, God, take them, and don't let them go through a lot of pain.” Life became more about loving the time I had with them and preparing myself for their deaths.
Mom and Kimmy went to the hospital more and more. I wanted to be with them, so I slept in a chair at the hospital; sometimes I was given a cot. Every time they went to the hospital I was sad and scared, wondering if they were going to die.
Eventually, we contacted the AIDS Foundation. They were wonderful. They had counselors who came to the house. I could talk with them; they understood what I was going through. At fifteen years old, I finally had a support system and friends.
My last two years of high school I was home-schooled. It was too hard to go to school every day. The hospital stays were becoming more frequent and longer. The teachers knew about my situation and helped me with my assignments.
Kimmy passed away three years ago in the hospital. She was thirteen years old. I got a lot of support from the AIDS Foundation, but I did have to sign papers and make final arrangements. Mom didn't want to do it. She was too sick, and it made her too sad.
After Kimmy was gone, my mom quickly got worse. She had a brain infection and couldn't talk. Nurses taught me how to change her catheter and take care of her at home. They came to check on her every morning.
The day came when Mom didn't recognize me anymore. She mostly sleptâshe was on heavy pain medication. One night she was breathing really hard. I slept next to her all night, fearing the worst.
She died the next morning. Thank God, the nurse happened to be there. Otherwise, I think I might have lost it.
I stayed at the house by myself for a month. I wanted to; I needed the time alone. I started packing things and had a garage sale. My friends from the AIDS Foundation were there for me helping any way they could.
These same friends are now my family. One very good friendâKimmy's counselorâis like a big sister. She invited me to stay at her house. I've lived with her for two years.
I'm still sad. I miss Mom and Kimmy every day. But I'll be okay. I have a lot of friends and a lot of love. I'm in community college now, and I love school.
I don't think AIDS will ever leave my life. It's part of who I am. I want to help educate as many people as I can. I participate in all of the Foundation events. I speak to students at colleges, high schools, middle schools and elementary schools to educate them about AIDS prevention. Many schools are afraid to tell kids to wear condoms or practice abstinence. When I speak I tell them, “You really need to protect yourself. Don't be fooled. Just because someone doesn't look sick, he or she could still be infected. Don't assume your boyfriend or girlfriend is all right. And don't think it can't affect you.” And then I tell my story.
Maria Piñedo
[EDITORS' NOTE:
For more information on AIDS and HIV or
if you would like to get involved in AIDS/HIV education and
prevention efforts, the following are some helpful resources.]
Teen AIDS Hotline: 800-234-4TEEN
National AIDS Hotline: 800-342-2437
Information, referrals, support, twenty-four hours.
Youth Crisis Line: 800-843-5200
Twenty-four hours. Bilingual.
I wonder as I wander
Out under the sky
Why do people I care about
Always have to die?
Are you happy where you are,
Wherever that may be?
I wonder as I wander,
Do you still think of me?
Is it nice up there in heaven?
For I know you made it there.
Are the clouds made out of marshmallows?
Do you know that I still care?
I look up at the winter sky,
And shed a single tear.
I think of all the days gone by,
I'll always hold you dear.
I wonder as I wander
Out under the sky
Why do people I care about
Always have to die?
Hilary Begleiter
I have had a rare anemia my whole life, which requires me to go to the hospital every four weeks for a blood transfusion. Every four weeks I spend two days in the hospital with nothing to do. I know some of the kids who go to the hospital regularly, and sometimes we visit each other's rooms. Only problem is, most of these kids are much younger than I am, and I can't really relate to them. I accept this fact and try to make the best of it every time I go.
During a routine visit sometime after my fifteenth birthday, my favorite nurse asked me if I had met Greg, a new patient about my age. I told her I hadn't but would like to, so she led me to his room. My life would never be the same.
His room was full of silver balloons, games and sport drinks. Greg was a boy with tan brown skin and curly black hair. He had a controller in his hand and was playing Nintendo. After we were introduced, he asked me if I wanted to play. I love video games so I gladly accepted his offer. I immediately noticed a neon yellow bag hanging from his I.V. pole. I asked him what it was and he told me it was chemotherapy for his leukemia. I had never really talked to someone with cancer before so I was intrigued to hear the details of the disease. We exchanged information about each other while playing Nintendo and, by the time we were done, I felt as if I had known him for years.
We were friends from that day forward. Whenever I was admitted to the hospital, I would ask if he was there. If he had just left the hospital, the nurses would always tell me Greg had asked about me. Finally, Greg's foster mom suggested to my dad that we take our friendship outside the hospital walls. So Greg started visiting me at my house, and our bond grew even stronger.