For those of you who don't know...I work at the Philadelphia Ronald McDonald House, and the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia. The Ronald McDonald House has 2 family rooms in the hospital (one on the Oncology floor, one on the Cardiology floor) where families can go to relax. The rooms consist of a kitchen, dining room, living room, laundry room, and bathroom. I get meals, snacks and other supplies donated, and get people to donate their time by doing free haircuts & manicures, and teaching yoga for free, etc. and I plan different activities so the families that are staying here (sometimes for months at a time) have stuff to do to break up their day and keep them occupied.
Being a childhood cancer survivor, and being treated at CHOP, makes me very appreciative of my job, and makes me happy to give back. I am happy that I can be there for families that are going through the same things me and my family went through. If I could give them even the slightest glimmer of hope by looking at me, it is worth it.
It has been really rough lately though...especially with it being the holiday season. Last week, a family was told there is nothing more (medically) that can be done for their son. He's two years old, and he has the same type of cancer I had (Neuroblastoma). Right now they are just giving him pain meds to keep him comfortable, and hoping he will make it through Christmas. His parents are so strong though. They've already made all the necessary arrangements, and they are enjoying the time they have left with their son. On the door to his room it has a stop sign with a sign that says: Rules of the Cave- 1. No "I'm Sorry", 2. No Sad Faces, 3. No Negativity, 4. No Tears If you can't do this, walk away NOW.
I know I'm not supposed to get attached, and I should just "turn this off" when I leave work, but these are families I've invested my time in, and since I am a cancer survivor, I have an emotional connection to their situation as well. If I could give up all of my Christmas presents for Dante's health, I would do it in an instance. I am sure a lot of people would too. All I really want for Christmas, is a miracle.
There is another little boy who got transferred from the Bone Marrow Transplant Unit to the PICU last week because his kidneys and liver were failing. Over the weekend he stopped breathing and his heart stopped...it took a little over 6 minutes for them to bring him back.
That same weekend, a little girl who is only 9 months old, also stopped breathing and turned blue in her mother's arms. The nurse had to call for help and they had to pump air into her lungs to get her breathing again.
Today, was transplant day for a 3 year old boy. What a Christmas present! You want to be happy and excited because this will help him, but at the same time, you wish they could be with their family (during bone marrow transplants you are in confinement and cannot really have visitors for 1-3 months besides the parents who are usually sleeping on the floor or in a chair next to the bed).
The hospital staff has tried to get as many patients out of the Oncology unit for the holidays so they could be at home with their families for the holidays, and most of them will return the day after Christmas to resume their treatments. However, there are a lot of families that will be spending their Christmas in the hospital. They have their Christmas trees set up next to their IV poles that hold their chemo, and Santa will not forget them when he's making his deliveries tonight.
I spent all day at CHOP today (from 8:30 am until 6pm). We had a lunch in the family room, as well as a dinner. I also had a music group come in to walk around the hallways singing Christmas carols. It was a busy day, and a fun day, but my heart can't help but break for these families. I'm not sure how my parents handled it. ...but they had no choice...and the parents there now, don't have a choice. There's nothing they can do but take each moment as it comes. They are all amazing and strong men and women.
I absolutely LOVE my job and I love the families at CHOP. I am so glad that I can give back. It is my pleasure to bless these families, even by doing the simplest things. I won't be with them Christmas day, but I pray they all have a wonderful holiday, and I pray for Christmas miracles.