It's not always about you

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.....

Last week members of my service club decided to do a New Year's project: to go to the University Hospital of the West Indies' Children's Ward to read to the children, present them with happy new year cards (keepsakes) and to just spend some time with them.

I hadn't heard about it until a day or so before, but I decided I had to go because I absolutely love children; and I love going on these outings with the club.

We were told to carry along some books. I found 3 brand new (why do we say brand new, why can't we just say new...hmmm.. and here I am falling into the trap lol..ANYWAY) books I had bought some time ago, never even opened. I don't recall why I bought 3 children's books, but anyway they came in handy because I gave away most of my childhood books long ago (and the other's are too big - combined encyclopedia size, for those who can remember encyclopedias before they were on the internet).

I went with those books and my imagination lol. So we were split into groups. The group I was in went to the ward with bigger children, which was fabulous because we actually got to interact with them (there were also 4 babies).

Entering the word did not feel depressing, perhaps because they had the walls painted in cheerful colours with cartoon characters. As we walked in a little boy with his head shaved and wearing a dust (medical) mask walked past us, we tried to say hello but he continued walking. We later learnt he was kinda the father of the 4 wards. He had a condition (we weren't told what it was) that kept him coming back to the wards, so he was familiar with the staff and everyone else, so he saw himself as being in charge; which would explain him peeping in periodically to see what we were up to (while he sat outside or followed the other groups to see where they went).

We met a baby as we went in, I believe her name was Tahira, she was so bubbly...rolling around and playing with herself, and then when we approached her crib she looked at us intently and then exposed gums in a smile. We wrote her name on the card (the cards were colourful, and had the faces of different cartoon characters on them). we gave her the card and she would never let it go, she played with it the whole time.

I read a story to Asheika who was unable to move. She is 8 and despite her immobility she was in good spirits and wanted to hear more than one story, in the end I gave her one of my books. I felt pretty shitty after I asked her if she wanted to hold the card and she said "I cant hold it", then the nurse said she can't move. I felt a pang to my heart.. I wanted to cry, but what good would it have done her to see me crying, when we are supposed to be bringing them cheer...so now in the comfort of my home, as I write this I cry...

We also met Malik (who has pneumonia) , Jevaughn (i think his name was) and Zoie and a few others who were unable to tell us their names, or whose names I cant remember. They were all beautiful children though, with wonderful spirits- we spoke at length with them about their favourite cartoons and pretty much anything else.

But the one that stands out the most in my memory and in my heart is Kymani :).

When I saw him at first he was being seen by doctors, he was seen the longest. His mother (who is absolutely wonderful, she was so nice and accommodating) told me that he suffered a stroke. I was puzzled because he is 4 years old, she told me it was brought on by the sickle cell disease he has.

I stood by his bed (where he and his mother sat in a chair) and asked him if he would like to hear a story, he said yes. After I read the story I told him I was going to see someone else and I would be back. I went to the bed across from his, then I saw him calling me. I came over. He said :

Come Here nuh, I like you

His mother told me I should take that as more than a compliment because he is brutally honest. I spent the greater part of the time with Kymani and his mother; she was telling me how she had to carry the laptop so he could watch his cartoons because he told her he doesn't like the cartoons they show on the ward (they only have TVJ). While I sat there with him, as he picture-read (he is such a bright little boy), he saw his friend with half of an orange and asked if he could have the other half- the friend happily obliged. I realized he was using one hand to hold it, while his mother coaxed him to use the other hand, or both. Then I realized the stroke had affected his left side and although he regained movement of his left foot, he wasn't moving the hand. His mother was worried about that, but other than that she was so proud of her bright little boy.

There was no sadness or regret in her voice. She just accepted what had happened and wanted the best... No sadness on the ward, only hope. The children weren't feeling sorry for themselves, why should we be sorry for them? ... 

Kymani, his mother and I, after going through all 6 books I had and deciding to go through all of them again

I would like to make this visit regularly, we can learn so much from children; and it gives me such a wonderful feeling to be doing something that can affect someone else's live in a positive way. Let's set aside some time that we spend doing something for someone else because it is not always about you.