“Goooood morning, Pumpkin! Your mother needs a few more minutes…” Noting my obvious distress, his cheery smile evaporated. “What’s wrong?” I put up a silencing finger and continued listening to Lavelle recount the events from the night before and their frantic 3 am trip to a Phoenix hospital after Walter passed out in the bathroom. “He was so dehydrated and getting worse by the minute. He said he felt so bad he wished he could die,” she exclaimed shrilly, “so I decided we shouldn’t even wait to pick up his prescription this morning.” Genuinely worried, my throat felt like I’d swallowed a handful of dry cereal. “What…what do they think is wrong with him?” “They’re not sure yet. He’s on fluids. They haven’t ruled out food poisoning and have ordered some tests.” Her voice quavered. “Kendall, I’m really scared. I’ve never seen him so sick. Ever.” “I’m so sorry!”
