Monday, April 7, 2014


So, I've talked about this many times but back in 1996 I spent about two years on and off in the Janeway Children's Hospital in St. John's Newfoundland.
I often talk about how I received 150 units of fresh frozen plasma, how I almost bled to death and how I missed an entire year of school but I never talked about the other children that I met while I was there. When you are in the hospital for such a long time you really begin to bond with the other children around you. The wonderful thing about sick children is that they are amazingly resilient. They don't act sick, they don't feel sorry for themselves and they don't complain.
For some reason I can't help thinking about two friends I met while I was there.
Jake was in the janeway forever, he was younger than me but seemed to be an old pro at the whole thing. All the nurses knew him very well and I remember he was always in a lot of pain but he was very sweet and kind. It seems to me like he was released and then must of relapsed and came back in. I remember him being wheeled back into unit 2B. I dreaded seeing him again because I knew it meant he was very sick. The whole thing was so traumatizing I still remember my patient number 201266. We all wore our hospital bracelets for so long they eventually cracked and fell off and they had to be replaced.
When I was finally released I found it hard to take off my bracelet it was so much a part of me I felt like it was something I survived and I didn't want to forget. For the record I did take it off but still have it saved in a photo album somewhere.
My other good Janeway friend was Amy, she had two old sisters and I remember them buying rabbit ears for the TVs in the hospital so they could watch soap operas.
Amy and I shared a room and even as a little girl I remember thinking that she was much sicker than me. I also remember how beautiful she was and her and her family seemed to have so much fun together even though she was in the hospital.
 A few months after I was released from the Janeway my mom found Amy's obituary in the newspaper. I was very upset but I don't think I really knew how to process it. Lately I just feel somewhat guilty that I was the one who survived. I also feel happy that they are no longer in pain because I can tell you first hard it was torture. If their families or anyone that knew them ever read this please know that they are remembered even by people that only knew them for a short time and please know that they they still inspire me to push through even when I feel like giving up.