Imagine holding a ten month old, perfect, solemn, beautiful baby girl when a song comes on the stereo: ‘I’ll stand by you… won’t let nobody hurt you… I’ll stand by you’. You’re holding Illeana, who was abandoned by her young mother.
Monday, our first day at the hospital. Terri, who’d done previous visits, had said the hospital looked like she imagined an American hospital would have looked like in the 1920’s, and I think that was pretty much right. Small rooms lined with beds and nothing much else. Our rooms had brightly coloured cots and buckets of toys but still very, very basic. We were given a list of optional gifts to bring if we wanted and even though I brought a lot I still felt like I didn’t bring enough. Not enough over the counter medicines and ointments, especially. The nurses we met were all lovely – and busy.
They need so many things and it made me feel sick to think of how much excess we have at home and how little time we spend on people.
But enough of that angle… the kids. The kids were absolutely adorable. We had been given a run-down of who was in our clinic. Sammy has Down Syndrome. He is 6 but looks about 3 and likes rhythmic clapping and being tickled on the neck. Ana Maria, 18 months, was a prem and has some problems but is doing well. Maria Cleopatra has hydrocephalus (water on the brain) and was originally left with the clinic to die. She now has a shunt and is doing ok. She likes having her head stroked. The twins Michaela and Gabriella are 2.5 – Michaela is very intelligent and ‘normal’ but her sister has mental and physical delays and other problems. They had been going so well at the clinic that they were sent home, but Child Protection sent them back after difficulties at home. Michaela was the first to welcome me and I got a huge hug and cuddle from her. We didn’t meet Raoul as he has a rare disease called ‘butterfly skin’ and was in another part of the hospital. Other kids have foetal alcohol syndrome and are developmentally delayed. Nadia is the oldest at 16. She is paralysed, doesn’t talk and is the size of a 5 year old. A new girl Diana was nicknamed ‘Sunshine’ today as she’s very bubbly and smiles a lot.
Our routine is to play with them when we arrive (9am), they get a snack, we go outside and play on the swings, then come back for their lunch, they go to sleep and we have our break, then we play until 5pm. There’s no air conditioning in the hospital but the concrete building and the breezes keep it reasonable.
Needless to say we were all exhausted by the end of the day. It sounds so clichéd but I’ll say it anyway – it’s worth it to hear them laugh and see them looking happy.
I’m so glad we get to do it all again tomorrow… and the next day… and the next…
