24 October, 2010

Is stupidity an illness?

In Year 5 and 6, I had a best friend. No, really, I honestly did. Her name was (is??) Emily, and she lives in Burghfield. I'm resisting the temptation to broadcast her address to anyone who cares tbh, she deserves it. When we were in Year 6, Emily got diagnosed with an illness, because stuff in her body wasn't working right. Then, she was moved to the JR (John Radcliffe for those of you who are unaware) Hospital in Oxfordshire, and stayed there for a few weeks. Me and two other friends went up to visit her one evening after school, and it was nice, if very sad. I mean, it was lovely to see her but Emily was always the feisty one (ooh! Feisty one you are!) out of the two of us, and we were inseparable. We used to do a lot of things together, and when Emily finally made it back to school, she didn't go out at break times and lunchtimes very much. I think the transition Summer Holiday (as I like to call it), the big, worrying one between Junior and ''Big'' School, was quite a miserable one for Emily. Beforehand, she was asthmatic, and had a lot of eczema, and also she was quite small, not a big fan of sports. After, she just didn't like doing anything. During that time, I like to think I was quite a help; I mean, I stayed over there a lot so I could cheer her up, and I made sure she'd take her medicine every day (although she often refused; but I made her.), and I also tried to get her to drink enough so's her liver could get better again. But, (I can't rememer if I ever mentioned this on my blog), I had to go to a different Secondary School to all of my Junior and Primary School friends. This I will explain more in a later post, but anyway. After I changed schools to Emily, I still kept in touch with her a lot, we rang each other and texted, and had frequent sleepovers. But as the year went by, and the year after that, the friendship dwindled, which I also accept responsibility for. But sometimes, I regret letting it happen. If it hadn't happened, I'd still have my 'best friend'. But now I don't. No, the reason she didn't get in touch with me was because she'd found a new best friend. Someone, allegedly, with excactly the same illness as her (the chances of this being one in about 1000, but whatever), and so therefore could have a better 'understanding' of her illness. For God's sake! The thing that really kicks me is the fact that yes, I admit I could've got in touch with Emily. I was busy during the week OK, but I was normally free on the weekends, and it would've been so easy just to pick up the damn phoine. But she is quite happy to apportion all blame on me, because she doesn't need me anymore. So, as long as she's quite a safe distance away, and she has the added shelter of the 'new best friend', with all the 'understanding' she possesses, it's perfectly acceptable to burn her goddamned bridges. Well, that's just fantastic Emily, thank you. I spent my last year of Junior School mostly with you, checking that you were OK, that you had everything you needed and that you weren't being selfish enough to fake taking your medicine which you often did. I had to make sure you were trying to help yourself, like everyone was trying to help you; yeah, I minded a bit. Not much. But a bit. Because I was terrifeid that you'd relapse. You seemed so fragile to me, and I'm clearly no doctor but I was scared that one day you'd collapse again, and it would be ten times worse. When you were first diagnosed, you have no idea how scared I was. This seems very selfish, I know, but I was scared Emily. Ten/Eleven years old and told that your best friend was very ill but no-one knew for certain what was wrong with her is a SCARY THING. I hope you realise what I did for you. And I hope your new best friend is worth it.

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