Nikki, I sit here, looking at your still form, and I wonder if  you are ever going to wake up again.  

You have been here in the Intensive Care Unit going on one week now.  You were injured in a bad car wreck on the way home from school: wrong way driver, a suspected drinker.  Massive head trauma, numerous broken bones, God only knows what else.  Doctors don't hold much hope in the way of your recovery ...

To see you lying there, looking so helpless, broken, and battered, is very hard for me, but seeing you have been there for me when I needed a friend, I figured that I could do the same for you.  It's only the right thing to do.

It is almost Thanksgiving .... tomorrow, in fact.  While many people will be out of town or celebrating here at home with family and/or friends, I am going to stay here with your parents, who have hardly left your side.  They are currently in the waiting area just down the hall, where they are catching up on some badly-needed rest.  I should be doing the same thing (sleeping; it's only 3:42 in the morning as I write this), but the truth is, I can't.  I.  Just.  Can't!!

Nikki, I wish you could move a finger or a toe, something, to let me know you're alive!  Doctors and nurses frequently come into your room and hover over your hospital bed as they repeatedly shine bright lights in your eyes and shout your name, pinching various parts of your flaccid body, to see if they get any response, but you lie as still as a stone.  It is very disheartening to see.  

They (the dumb medical staff) think that, if you do emerge from the coma, you might be "damaged" somehow; and seeing you have always been a vibrant, active girl who has always put others first before herself, to think of you as being "damaged" is something I can't even begin to live with!

I could be celebrating Thanksgiving tomorrow with my own family, Nikki, but I choose to be here for you, for your mom and dad.  (Your NeNe Taylor is watching your little brother; so no worries about him.  He is safe and sound.)  We want to be here for you as you recover from your injuries/coma.

Well, Nikki, I am going to try to get some badly-needed shuteye.  I am trying to fall asleep now as I write this, and I am becoming stupid in my head.  My brain isn't paying attention to what my hands are doing: I keep on making mistakes.  I do hope that you know that you are loved, and that you have many people who are praying for you to get well.  

All I can say is, I hope you wake up soon, or at least give the doctors and nurses who are caring for you some sign that you're "in there" and not out in some far-off portion of outer space!  I hate seeing you covered in tubes and wires; and not knowing if you are going to ever come back normal again!  I can think of better ways to spend Thanksgiving than sitting here in a dimly-lit hospital room not knowing anything about what is going to happen to you!!