Just a place
When I was younger , there were only a few places that had any effect on me. One of these places was St. Jude hospital,a hospital world renowned for its cancer research. Around the time I was ten years old my sister, who was eighteen, was diagnosed with acute leukemia. It was a devastating occurrence. We had walked into the building, the daunting building with pink peachy outer walls. through the spinning door that yelled if you didn't go through right and into the lobby. With plush carpets and even plushier seats it looked like we had walked into a hospital for the rich. Off of that room there is a room we only went into once. It was where my sister and my dad and her mom checked her into the hospital. Running tests and checking how far the cancer had progressed.
This place with its many floors. I don't think that there is a single floor that I haven't been on at least once. On the second floor with its colorful people and animals it was almost like a child's dream-scape. I remember I used to look at the people as I walked past them, the neon colors burning themselves into the back of my eyeballs, the children looked so happy. Nothing could hurt these children. It seemed wrong to me that while these children played and romped around in the scenic back ground that the real kids and especially my sister were fighting for their lives, and even worse in this reality was the fact that though nothing was really happening to me directly I was still miserable. Those kids on the wall seemed like they had no cares in the world. I wanted to be like them.
Once you actually got past these children you could make your way to the actual rooms themselves. Inside these rooms you would find many things. Of course you would obviously have your very common hospital bed, many hours I spent watching my sister or laying next to her offering her what little comfort I could give her. Near this bed depending on the room that was assigned at the time there would be a small table that could be made to go over the bed. Likewise there would be a rocking chair that could stretch out into a recliner, and next to that there would be a couch. These are the things that I would sometimes sleep on when I didn't have to go to school the next day.
In this place where the pain management team made you rate your pain in a rank from the number of one to the number of ten. The higher your pain the higher your number. They would list your number on a paper near the head of the bed on the wall. An excellent way to rank your pain if you even know how to put your pain on that type of a rank.
When you got past the room there was a another room it was the family/parents room with its own bath room and TV . Also in this room there is a big space on the wall, this space is filled with a window, this is a way for the family to see their loved one with out possibly contaminating their system.
This place, holding so many memories and the love and hope of so many people, is a place full of loving and caring people. This place also holds the lives of countless children in its hands. However this place isn't special because of the building or even the medicine. This place is special because of the people and the spirit of the patients without this.........
it would be just a place.
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