The dregs

At the hospital I participate in an employee-only volunteer group that puts on "Parent Coffee." Every two weeks, I show up at the hospital at 7:15am, walk through the cafeteria and down a back elevator that takes me to the basement. Once there, I meet up with my volunteer partners Allison and Alison. Together we load up the cart with coffee and danishes, and head up to the patient floors. We do 7 south, 7 north, 8 south, 8 north and 5 south (Cancer, Neuro, Medicine, PICU).

The job itself is simple: we knock on each door, poke our heads in, and and ask the parents inside if they would like a cup of coffee. We get a lot of gratitude from a lot of very tired and very worried parents.

Of course, there is always another person in the room -- the patient, and though I have an idea why the child is in the hospital based on what floor he or she is on, I never know what I am going to see when I walk in that room; bald heads, IV's, NG tubes, sad eyes, frightened eyes, vacant eyes.

Every week, some patient sticks with me, a face or a scene that I can't shake. Some are with me still. This week, that child was on the Neuro floor. I knocked on the door and asked the mother there if she wanted a coffee. She said, "Oh God, yes." I went to the cart, got her a coffee and danish, then went back to the room. As I walked by the bed, I let my eyes linger for a moment and saw maybe a 8 month old girl, her head connected to a seizure monitoring device with dozens of electrodes. She looked up at me with bright little brown eyes and gave me a brief, gummy smile. She was playing with a little toy that lit up and made sounds when she shook it.

I am used to seeing sick kids -- that is the line of work I am in, and I am always amazed at the fortitude with which our patients approach their illnesses. For this child, however, I felt something different. At her age, she doesn't know she is sick, and she doesn't know she is in a hospital. Her lack of understanding frees her from the burden of her sickness, though it is sad to think that she has not yet entered the realm of understanding, and that she might not have the opportunity.