Here is an excerpt front the book I have been working (but, have been slightly sidetracked from) that tackles the new show Red Band Society. What its really like in a Childrens Hospital. I pulled into the front driveway of Boston Children’s Hospital, heading straight for the valet lane. As quickly as possible, I got the ticket from the attendant and dragged the two heavy suitcases out of my car, dodging cars and taxis as I made my way to the front door. I headed straight for the concierge desk. All I could think about was getting to Tucker. He had sent me a number of texts in the last hour asking me when I would be there. I couldn’t be in his room hugging him fast enough. All my plans for rapid response however were dashed completely when I approached the woman at the desk. “ Hi, I need to goto 6 north, can you point me in the right direction? “ “Who are you going to see?” I tell her “Tucker Gowen”. “I don’t see anyone by that name here.” “Well, look again.” “Nope, don’t see it…..And you are?” “I’m his mother.” (And I’m about ready to jump over that desk in a minute if you don’t stop giving me a difficult time and start pointing me in the right direction.) She decides to call up to 6 North to ask them if they have a Tucker Gowen. The conversation goes something like this…“MMhmm….yup….. Ohhh I see….yes…. ok. “ She hangs up and looks at me… Hes in the system as Truxtun Gowen, not Tucker. “Oh right, sorry. I wasn’t thinking….Truxtun is his birth name, but we have always called him Tucker. He had never quite grown into the name Truxtun yet. Now, that we have established that.... which way lady?! She then she asks me if I have a pass, which of course I didn’t. Well, we are going to need to make a pass for you. Really lady, right now? “Can it wait? I’m in a hurry.” Her answer was a resounding NO. So, I take the extra few minutes and have a new and very permanent looking pass made that hung from a heavy duty lanyard that said Boston Children’s Hospital. I looked like I was an employee with this thing. As she handed it over to me, she went onto explain, “This is good for 3 months. If you need to be here longer, than you will have to come back here and have another one made up.” Did she really just say THREE MONTHS…. and it may not carry me through all the way?! The reality of our situation was starting to hit me…hard. She directed me to the elevators that would take me to my boy. Of course I got the local that seemed to stop on every floor. Parents with their children filed in and filed out. Some with casts on their arms, others with developmental delays, some in wheelchairs. Most had passes pinned to them that were good for one day. Those who had the lanyard cadillac passes seemed to have them for a month at the most. No one had one for 3 months. As I got off the elevators at the 6th floor, I followed signs for 6 north. I stopped at the double doors leading to the wing. There were sanitizer dispensers on the wall and strict instructions to use them and not enter if you have any signs of cold or flu symptoms. I sanitized up and passed through the doors…almost to you Tucker. Stepping onto the cancer floor was like stepping into an alternate universe for me. I don’t know why I didn’t mentally prepare myself for what I was about to see, but I hadn’t even thought about it. I was so focused on just getting to Tucker. Everywhere I looked there were bald children in hospital gowns mulling in and out of their rooms. Some, lying in their beds looking like hollow shells of themselves. There was a toddler in a cozy coupe car attached to his IV pole, being pushed by his exhausted father . A young mother was holding her infant in her arms. He was attached to an IV pole and bald, but not baby bald. No peach fuzz, no eyebrows, no signs of hair whatsoever. He had a tube going in his nose and taped to the side of his cheek. How does a baby not pull that out? I thought. Then it dawned on me that he didn’t look like he had the energy to pull it out. The mother gave me a friendly nod, but she looked spent. I’m sure nothing in any of the What To Expect Pregnancy books prepared her for this. Im sure she could see the terror in my own eyes as I tried to even fathom what my own sons battle was going to be. I could hear the faint sounds of machines beeping in the distance. There was no giggling, there was no children skipping down the halls…it was eerily quiet. I felt like Alice inWonderland, except this was more like Jeni in Nightmareland. I had just falling down the rabbit hole into a world that I didn’t know, with rules I didn’t understand. What world is this that an infant can have cancer? It was wrong on so many levels. I was terrified.
Posted on: Thu, 18 Sep 2014 16:05:50 +0000
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