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Memoir
I had lost three pounds already and was feeling dizzier. My mom and I were on our way to the Children’s Hospital. I had been sick for a while now and I was only getting worse. When we finally reached the hospital I was scared and I felt overwhelmed. At the time I was only six years old and in kindergarten. I had no idea what was about to happen in the next couple of days.
“Come on Madison. We are almost to the doors. Can you make it or do I have to carry you?” As I opened my eyes I looked up I saw my mom taking me out of my carseat. I held my arms out to her as she picked me up and carried me through the sliding glass doors. By the time we reached the front desk to check in, my mom and I were both out of breath and I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. We waited in the waiting room for awhile. Finally a nurse called my name, and we followed her down a hallway. She ushered us into a room with no windows and a mess of equipment and asked me to put on the gown that was lying on the bed. After I put the gown on, I got into the hospital bed and closed my eyes. All I could hear was my mom and the nurse chattering about me, but I was too tired to even focus on the conversation.
Suddenly, my eyes fluttered open. I must of fallen asleep while the nurse and my mother were talking. I tried sitting up but I was too weak. In front of me I saw the nurse that was talking with my mom pulling my hospital bed into the elevator with my mom trailing behind. When we entered the elevator my mom noticed that I had woken up. She smiled and said “It’s okay Mads we are just moving rooms nothing to worry about!” I could tell by the look in her eyes that she wasn’t herself. She had a look of panic in her eyes. The elevator stopped on level three and I was carted off to another room. As I turned the corner I remember seeing other kids in beds just like me which provided me a little bit of comfort knowing that I wasn’t the only other kid in the hospital.
Finally I reached the room. The nurse said that the doctor would check up on me shortly and left. I looked around the room and realized that this room had a window. I strained my eyes trying to peer out the window. I felt a sense of comfort. Far in the distance among all the office buildings I saw my Dad’s office. It was the first familiar thing that I had recognized since I reached the hospital. I stared out the window until the doctor came. The doctor arrived a while later and examined me and said, “You better stay awhile until you get better kiddo. At least until we figure out what is wrong and you feel better” Awhile, I thought to myself? I don’t want to be here awhile. The hospital smelled like freshly printed paper and had the scent of cleanness to it.
An hour or so later a nurse came into take me to the x-ray room. I was so weak that I could no long stand, so they put me in a wheelchair and pushed me down the hall. First they lied me down and then asked me to stand. It was hard to stand, “I can’t,” I mumbled, “it hurts so much.” “Sweetie you have to try your best so we can know what is wrong with you.” the nurse replied. After the x-rays were done, I was wheeled back to my room. The moment the nurse left the tears started streaming down my face. I didn’t understand why this was happening to me. My mom did the best she could to comfort to me. She even ordered chicken noodle soup which she knew was my favorite. After I had gathered myself again I ate my soup and watched the TV with my mom by my side. I closed my eyes trying my best to relax. I pretended to be back at home nestled in my bed, and soon I drifted back to sleep.
I was once again awaken by the doctor when he entered the room. “Okay kiddo! I have your results.” My mom grabbed my hand and looked at the doctor anxiously. He started to explain that I was so dehydrated that they needed to attach an IV to me. He told me that dehydration is an abnormal condition in which the body’s cells do not get enough water in order to function properly. He said that I would be okay, but he wanted to keep me for a few more days so I could be a 100% again. He said that the only other thing he wanted to do was prick my fingers. I did not know what that was, but thought it didn’t sound too bad, so I did not dwell on the idea of it.
After the doctor left a nurse came in that seemed nicer than the rest of the nurses I had met. She asked which arm I wanted the IV in, incase I wanted to color. She set up a few things and injected the IV. The IV going into my skin was excruciating. It felt almost although a razor blade was being driving through my frail hand. After the IV was in she gave me some coloring sheets and I was all set up. After the nurse filed out of the room, I was so relieved I fell right to sleep. At about 12 o’clock, yet another nurse came bustling into the room with something that looked terrifying. She told me to hold out my hands. I hesitated, but didn’t question her. She pricked seven of my fingers and fled the room leaving me crying and in pain.
After I settled down I asked my mom, “Why did she do that to me mommy!” I said in a trembling voice, “It wasn’t nice!” My mom looked at me with a tired look in her eyes and said “She only pricked your fingers Madison because that is how they tell if you are getting any better.” “By taking my blood! Well could they figure out a less painful way to do it?” I was so exasperated at what had just happened I wanted to know why they would do much a thing, at this point my mom looked exhausted. She took my hand in hers and closed her eyes. Her hand felt warm and soft unlike the icy cold hands and the rubber gloves that had been manhandling me the past few hours. I felt reassured and drifted asleep again and went back to bed with my mom in the hospital chair next to me. She had been there through all of the hard times and I was extremely thankful for her being there by my side.
When I woke up in the morning a nurse was by my side adjusting my IV and putting in a new water bag. Later the doctor came back in and claimed “ Kiddo you lost six six pounds through all of that rigmarole!” He also told me that I looked a lot better and that I would be tested again a little later.
I felt a lot better when I woke up and finally ate something. I ordered chicken noodle soup again. I sat in the hospital bed for awhile watching television and eating until the doctor came to test me once more, just like he had told me this morning. Each day was better. After three days I was finally free to go. The nurse who had offered me a coloring sheet arrived again and removed the IV from me and gave me a Band-Aid. The doctor talked to my mom for a bit and then sent us on our way. I was so relieved that I was leaving the hospital, but mostly happy that I could walk again and that I was almost my normal self.
On the car ride home my mom lectured me about what the doctor had said and the importance about drinking lots of water in order to stay healthy. I stopped listening to her about halfway through her speech, but I know she was right. I should've listened to her. Yet, through everything I had been through, she was there for me, even if I had listened I would not of ended up in this mess. I realized in that moment my mom cares for me so much and she loves me and no matter what happens she will always love me.
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