Free Once Upon a Wish by Rachelle Sparks Page B

risk the word
death
seeping into Katelyn’s mind, crawling viciously through the part of her brain, her soul, that might,on some level, remain hopeful. She had heard stories of people whose bodies had shut down while their minds remained wide awake. Sharon clutched onto that possible sliver of hope with both arms, trying to fill Katelyn’s silent life with as much normalcy as possible.
    Every morning, Sharon dressed her in shirts from her closet at home and painted her nails to match, as Katelyn would have done. Red, blue, orange, green, purple: the colors changed daily, everything coordinated. From the time Katelyn could dress herself as a little girl, she had put together outfits with every article—clothes, purses, shoes, accessories—matching, every detail a well thought out artistic plan. She wore gloves and hats to school, paid no attention to trends or labels, and often left the house dressed like she was going to church, strutting like a star.
    Under Katelyn’s direction, guests had come to her sixth birthday tea party wearing fancy dresses, gloves, hats, and shoes. Sharon had always respected her daughter’s style, admired her flare, and honored it through sickness—just in case it somehow connected Katelyn with her old self, her well self; just in case part of her was still there.
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    After six months in the hospital—Katelyn in a coma for five and a half of them—every doctor had given up hope for her survival. They were waiting for her to die.
    But Ray and Sharon were waiting for her to wake up. When doctors said there was nothing left to do but keep her alive, maintain her condition, Ray and Sharon had to make the toughest decision of their lives.
    “We’ll take her home,” Sharon said after discussing their situation with Ray and Crystal.
    Crystal confirmed Sharon’s instinct, saying, “Let’s bring her home and see what God can do.”
    With Katelyn hooked to an IV tree of medicine, breathing and eating from machines, battling cancer and a rare brain infection, Sharon knew she might be getting in over her head, but she believed she could do it. Ray went to work, Crystal continued tenth grade, and Sharon became a full-time nurse, administering thirty-two different drugs at precise times day and night.
    The hospital set her up with monitors and a bed at home, and after a day and a half of collaboration among doctors, nurses, and pharmacists, Sharon had a plan—very specific guidelines of times and dosages. She created a spreadsheet and determined the hours every day that she could sleep, the only hours not filled with administering drugs—between 2:00 a.m. and 6:00 a.m.
    They brought Katelyn home on Christmas Eve. It was the first time Sharon saw the home Ray had purchased while she and Katelyn were in the hospital. When Katelyn’s doctors said the small, two-story condo they were renting was not adequate for Katelyn’s condition, Ray searched for a house, bought one, moved all of their stuff with the help of Sharon’s mom, and placed a Christmas tree with twinkling lights in the front room to welcome them home with holiday cheer.
    Sharon made a traditional Christmas meal that year, wrapped presents, and the family opened them together as they had every year since the girls were born. They said a prayer that evening, as they would on every holiday, that Katelyn would make it to the next. Celebrating Valentine’s Day as a family was the plan, the focus.
    On Valentine’s Day, Ray brought chocolates home to his daughters, and as he, Crystal, and Sharon indulged, Sharon teased, “C’mon girl, wake up so you can eat some.”
    They treated Katelyn the same as they always had—took her to see movies, ice shows, shopping, restaurants, baseball games. People stared, kids asked questions, but Sharon and Ray were determined to live life, to give Katelyn a life, as long as she was breathing. Their outings—as difficult as they were to transport Katelyn, her meds, her pole, her