In the Hospital, I've managed to develop bonds with these kids very fast.
Bonds that run deep.
And sometimes scary.
In the ward there is this young boy who recently turned 7 who had grown very close to my heart. Every morning when I arrived, he would wish me "Good Morning" with a perky smile and would stay in the Playroom till I left. He listened to me and loved me as much I loved him. Well mannered and affectionate, he was one of those kids who seemed to be able to spread a smile with his meek ways.
He was doing well and was given permission by the Doctors to go home for 3 days (27th-29th December).
Before I was leaving to go home on 24th December, I went to meet him and say bye.
He looked at me with big eyes and asked me whether I was going to meet him next day for Christmas. I had an off day on 25th December for Christmas. I told him that. He looked alarmed and told his mother, "That means I won't meet her for 5 days?!"
His mother smiled and replied, "No. You'll meet her on 26th."
He looked down and told me, "But Doctor Aunty told me that if my blood reports are fine, I might go home tomorrow itself for Christmas."
So I patted his back and reassured him, "Its okay. I'll meet you directly on 30th then."
He thought for a while and looked at his mother and said, "Ma. I don't want my blood reports to be okay today. I want to stay back in the Hospital for one more day, meet her on 26th and then go home."
There was silence.
His mother gasped and I stopped breathing for a second.
One word. Innocence.
While his mother thought he has uttered something ominous (no mother wanted a blood report to have negative results), he seemed oblivious. All he wanted was to meet me for another day before he was sent of home. It struck me how innocent this little boy was. How blissfully ignorant of the situation. And the bond that we both had developed in a span of just 3.5 weeks.
I hugged him tight and assured him I'll be back on Christmas to meet him. That both his mother and I wanted his reports to be perfect. That, that it was important. He understood and apologized. He looked at me and then looked down.
He sighed and with immense maturity told me, "Its okay. I'll meet you on 26th and if not on 30th."
I hugged him again and left.
On 26th when I went back, his bed was empty.
The reports were good.
He was sent home a day early.
Though that news made me extremely happee, somewhere I was missing him also.
The paradox of feeling happee when the beds in the Paediatric Ward are empty and the emptiness inside for missing those smiling happee faces in the Playroom.
I think I'll give him a call now. See what he is upto. :)
Bonds that run deep.
And sometimes scary.
In the ward there is this young boy who recently turned 7 who had grown very close to my heart. Every morning when I arrived, he would wish me "Good Morning" with a perky smile and would stay in the Playroom till I left. He listened to me and loved me as much I loved him. Well mannered and affectionate, he was one of those kids who seemed to be able to spread a smile with his meek ways.
He was doing well and was given permission by the Doctors to go home for 3 days (27th-29th December).
Before I was leaving to go home on 24th December, I went to meet him and say bye.
He looked at me with big eyes and asked me whether I was going to meet him next day for Christmas. I had an off day on 25th December for Christmas. I told him that. He looked alarmed and told his mother, "That means I won't meet her for 5 days?!"
His mother smiled and replied, "No. You'll meet her on 26th."
He looked down and told me, "But Doctor Aunty told me that if my blood reports are fine, I might go home tomorrow itself for Christmas."
So I patted his back and reassured him, "Its okay. I'll meet you directly on 30th then."
He thought for a while and looked at his mother and said, "Ma. I don't want my blood reports to be okay today. I want to stay back in the Hospital for one more day, meet her on 26th and then go home."
There was silence.
His mother gasped and I stopped breathing for a second.
One word. Innocence.
While his mother thought he has uttered something ominous (no mother wanted a blood report to have negative results), he seemed oblivious. All he wanted was to meet me for another day before he was sent of home. It struck me how innocent this little boy was. How blissfully ignorant of the situation. And the bond that we both had developed in a span of just 3.5 weeks.
I hugged him tight and assured him I'll be back on Christmas to meet him. That both his mother and I wanted his reports to be perfect. That, that it was important. He understood and apologized. He looked at me and then looked down.
He sighed and with immense maturity told me, "Its okay. I'll meet you on 26th and if not on 30th."
I hugged him again and left.
On 26th when I went back, his bed was empty.
The reports were good.
He was sent home a day early.
Though that news made me extremely happee, somewhere I was missing him also.
The paradox of feeling happee when the beds in the Paediatric Ward are empty and the emptiness inside for missing those smiling happee faces in the Playroom.
I think I'll give him a call now. See what he is upto. :)
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