Personal Narrative: My Trip To Home With Phoebe

A few days after I went home with Phoebe, I ended up getting sick and my parents sent me to a hospital. I was trapped in that hospital for about a month with nothing to really do. You know what was funny though? The days practically flew by, right out of the window. Before I knew it, half a month had passed. I was slowly getting back my strength and everything else as well. I made sure I asked the nurse, who was taking care of me, to bring me malted milk. She was very kind to me, and chatty in a nice, friendly sort of way. It was a nice break from the typical phony people. Speaking of phonies, you should've seen my therapist. He came to me during this one session, started asking me questions in a very posh voice. You know, like he's really
Phoebe always gave the nurses that visited me a terrific time, which ended up having the nurses take care of me like i was the president. She left her latest story on my bedside table. Hazel Weatherfield got shot in the leg, but still somehow managed to fend off a mob of gangsters with an empty revolver. Of course, I found that impossible. My mother eventually to see me, along with the Phoebe and D.B. We had a long talk, and I don't feel much like talking about it. I remember she started crying at one point. I got up and gave her a hug. D.B. and Phoebe joined in quick. It was the least phony thing you could imagine. I told her that everything would be fine, and that we were all here, Allie too. That made her smile. She looked me in the eyes then kissed me on the cheek. She was still crying, but I swear they were tears of joy. What troubled me though was that Dad wasn't there. He's never there for these rare moments. That worried me a little bit. I felt like I should have worried about it, or at least pretended to worry about it, but I didn’'t. Come to think of it, Dad is hardly on my mind nowadays. He's on my mind even less that he used to be when we were normally together, and that was pretty low. Don't ask me why, because I can't explain
Boy was I excited when they finally discharged me. It smelled weird in there, I don't like the smell of hospitals. I mean, the stench kinda makes me want to crinkle my nose and throw it away. I guess I still haven't gotten used to it yet. It bothered me so much, having to smell it everyday when I was there. One of my nurses, Lily, came to see me before I left. She told me to take care of myself, and to stop making such a mess whenever I ate soup. She even gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to ask her for her number, so I could see her again someday and hang out. I didn't ask though. I guess that if I ever wanna see her again, she'll still be working there, hopefully. The whole family came by to pick me up, even Dad. Which gave me a bit of a shock. I kept looking at his face, to see if I could figure out what he was thinking. He was focusing on the road though, when he wanted to focus on something, he focused on it like no other. That really reminded me of how stubborn Phoebe could be when she wanted to be. Looks like that's one trait she got from him. During the long ride home, Phoebe kept asking me about my stay in the hospital. D.B. was quite curious too. I told them about the awful smell, and the weird food, and the funny people I saw, and how I kept spilling my soup by accident, and that nurse Lily, and even about that one phony therapist. Phoebe practically almost died out of laughter when I told her