One thing that kept me positive during hospital stays was a connection with people — from the doctors and nurses to housekeepers and security guards, to other patients, they all brought something special into my life.
The big smile on the face of the security guard who grew up in a tiny village in Russia who, when he found out I was from New Zealand, said, “You from land of Hobbits? Have you been to Hobbitville? That is my big dream”.
The ECG technician who told me she had a 13-year-old daughter who’d made her late for work that morning. When I said I had a 14-year-old grandson and knew how difficult teens could be, she opened up and told me more about her girl. “Yesterday she was a sweet kid, now she is a monster.” Tears welled in her eyes.
The radiologist from South Africa who made a special visit to my room to ‘gloat’ the day the South Africans beat the New Zealanders by one point during the recent Rugby World Cup.
And Daniel from Uruguay. Daniel was the nurse on duty the night I arrived on the ward from Michael Garron emergency with an NG (nasogastric) tube through my nose, down my esophagus and into my belly draining excess fluid. Daniel was an excellent nurse with exceptional multi-tasking skills, not found in all nurses. He was kind and with a great sense of humour. When he told me he was from Uruguay he said, “You probably haven’t heard of it because most people only seem to know the bigger South American countries like Peru and Brazil.”
I was delighted to tell him that not only had I heard of Uruguay, but I had been there and I’d not just spent a few days in a hotel but lived there in the 1970s with a friend’s grandmother. When I told him the story of how this had come about, it took my mind off cancer and hospitals and brought back many wonderful, and also scary, memories of travelling with my ex-husband and two-year-old daughter travelling from Colon about the Concordia, a rusty old cargo boat that we later found out was smuggling drugs.
Want to know more? Here’s a link to the Concordia Diaries.
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Health matters from my side of the bed is a collection of humorous (mostly) nonfiction, short stories about the people I’ve met, the food I’ve eaten, the memories that have been triggered, etc. since learning of my cancer diagnosis.
For more information:
email: gwd@ginettewhittenday.com
phone: 416-435-2258.
