Good Morning

This kid is HIV positive. He is in a wheelchair. He has muscle problems and speech problems and vision problems. He was adopted by a foster mother who brought him back after a month because she couldn't do it. And every morning- EVERY morning- he wakes up with a smile. "I have a house and food and school and people that love me...my life is good," he says, and he means it, as he starts to sing along with the radio.

4am

It's 4am, we are literally in the middle of this guy's chemo. I'm checking orders, vital signs, and blood return on his central line. I'm changing fluids and medicating for nausea. The girl in the room next door is crying. My patient sighs. "Are you ok?" I ask, checking his monitor and his lines. "She sounds like she's in pain," he nods his head toward their shared wall. "I hope she's ok." He looks worried. He certainly has no shortage of things to worry about, yet he's worried about her. When you've lost a little faith in humanity, you can sometimes find it in the middle of the night, in the corner of the hospital.

Blink

"I wish you knew me before," she said to me one night, while she could still speak. I do too. I've seen pictures. She was stunning. She taught preschool. She just got married. She had headaches. She came to us, a brain tumor took over, and her regression began: her ability to walk, get out of bed, go to the bathroom left one at a time. In the end she lay in bed, eyes wide and scared, voice gone. Her mom never leaves her side. Her baby has become her baby once again. Her mom writes each letter of the alphabet on a plain piece of paper, clearly, in rows. She holds the paper in front of her daughter and points slowly to each letter, one at a time. My patient blinks when she wants her mom to stop and her mom records the letter. The letters blend together. We insert spaces where they're needed. It is in this manner she spells out what she needs, what she's thinking. HELPME. DONTLETMEDIE. ICANTDOTHISANYMORE. IWISHYOUDIDNTHAVETOSEEMETHISWAY. IMSORRY. It's tedious and time consuming and heart breaking. One letter at a time.