Strawberry Shortcake. A devious little sweet treat, at least for my anyways, lets just say it brought out my other side. Taylor and me both loved strawberry shortcake, so much we fought over who got the first piece. Since I didn’t get my way, I stormed out of the house, but before I could leave my mother told me to take Tab’s book with. I grab the book, and stormed across the street to my house. I dropped her book in the yard and spit on it, “ERRR I HATE TAYLOR!” Little did I know what was about to happen shortly later.
On my computer, I was furiously typing at paper for a class when I heard my mother yell at me to come quick. I wanted to finish my thoughts so I didn’t rush to her, I just kept typing until she yelled again. I figured at the time that my goat had just got out of the fence or something so again I just took my good old time. I started walking down the steps and realized something was amiss. Taylor was covered in vomit, strawberry vomit, and the four-wheeler was all jumbled up. I ran to my mom, and saw my sister barely conscious. She kept saying to my sister “Taylor stay with me, look at momma.” She told me to get the phone and call 9-1-1. I rushed upstairs.
Quickly I dialed 9-1-1 and the woman asked me a bunch of questions. At the time I was completely shocked so I just babbled to the officer and she couldn’t understand me, like when your at McDonalds and you can’t understand the person who is taking your order. My mom grabbed the phone out of my hand and calmly, I don’t know how, told the woman the information she needed to know. Taylor, lying there seemed so helpless, grasping onto life and it seemed like forever till any medical help came. Finally the ambulance and cops and fire truck arrived.
Shortly after they saw the condition of Taylor they realized she needs to be transported by helicopter to Hershey Medical Center. While all of this was going on I was told to call my dad. “Dad, come home quick something has happened”, and I hung up. My dad arrived shortly after tears falling down his face because I had forgot to mention what was going on and he was anticipating the worse on this way home. Seeing with his very eyes what was happening made him even more flustered. My mother asked where she should sit in the helicopter but they wouldn’t let her go with. My mother furious told my dad to get in the car now and we left in the car before the helicopter even took off.
The drive there was really hard on everyone. No one knew what Taylor was going through, we didn’t even know if she would make it. My mother smelled like gas and everyone had tears running down there face. They called my grandma’s, aunts, and a few other people. My sister made it to Hershey in 8 minutes; I took us at least an hour. When we got there we parked in the emergency center parking lot and ran inside. The lady at the desk escorted us into a room to wait for the news about Taylor.
As we waited some of my family showed up. With quite interesting stories to tell, like “I was in the middle of eating my hotdog and I threw it in the trash to get here “lickycut”, and my other grandma was so disengaged from her brain that she parked her car in the wrong directions using 4 spots. We waited and waited and waited. Finally someone came in the room. “Mr. and Mrs. Ludwig?” My parents looked at her. “Taylor had a Kat scan and some other tests would you like to see her in the emergency room?” “Immediate family only though.” We walked back a long hallway and finally I saw Taylor. She looked awful, but smelled better because she had a bath. As she lay there she started to vomit and I could hardly take it. She was hooked up to so many machines, and kept asking for water in this helpless, sweet voice. I started crying, that was my little sister laying there, my little sister.
Later that night around ten or so they moved my sister to intensive car. Now the whole family saw her. They finally realize why I was so hard not to cry. My mom stayed with her all night, not even considering leaving her side. My dad and I went home and both of us got hardly any sleep.
The next day we went to the hospital bright and early. The doctors explained to us Taylor’s condition. He told us she has a numathorax to the lungs, a nicked liver, 3rd degree burns and a broken foot. Everyone has happy to hear that she would be okay and over time those things would heal. Although, one small problem still existed, Taylor couldn’t keep any food down so the doctor’s wanted to run more tests.
Shortly after the tests they found out they had misses that my sister had a cracked pancreas. This was neither a good thing nor a bad thing because although it didn’t require surgery, she would have to go without food for several weeks. After 4 failed attempts to put in pick lines the doctor’s finally decided a heart catheter was the best choice. My sister stayed in the hospital for the next two weeks and was finally released, still going without eating. She continued to have weekly blood tests and no food for about another 4 weeks till the doctors were sure her pancreas was completely grown back together,
My sister was called “a trooper” and a “tough little girl” and she truly deserves those titles. Any little 8-year-old girl who can go through as much as she does deserves a fitting title. Although, her pancreas if fine my sister still continues to have complication from the accident. She can’t handle all the fat in food and if she eats too much she vomits and her body has many imbalances. She also gained a lot of weight over those 6 weeks doubling her weight so she does deal with problems not only physically but socially as well. Nevertheless I’d rather have her by my side with some problems than not at all, she is my sister and the one thing I’ve learned it to appreciate the people you love because they might not be there forever.