It was a small room really meant to be a place for rest, to sleep and to heal as a short-term visit. But she had been there for so long, because they had decided there were not many suitable options for her and this was the best for now.
All this room had was a patient care bed and its table. A tall side stand for books and things but there was very little in it, just some things given as gifts by one of the nurses. There was a TV on the wall opposite the bed end, but she was not interested, and next to that a doorway to the shower and toilet neither of which she would use on her own.
Every once in a while a staff member would visit. Bringing in a drink or some food and to check she was alright. They would help her with movement and exercises and try to be friendly, but she didn’t care. Instead, why didn’t they just try and help her with her legs. Oh that’s right she forgot, they weren’t there, ANYMORE!!
But now inside she wasn’t angry they weren’t there, or sad that they were missing. She didn’t know how she felt. There was nothing, she just felt numb to everything.
Was it shock? Was it yet to hit her? She didn’t know and really didn’t care.
Sure, there were tears at first. Screaming and howling remorse when the nurse first told her what they had done. What they had to do. She remembered throwing things at the nurse in rage. But that had all gone now and it was not that she was calm or reconciled to the fact. Now she never left this room unless for therapy. What was the use! As now she only saw herself as a shell.
She also knew she would be moved soon. Some weeks earlier she overheard a person talking about it and about their opinion of where she would end up, and how it now would be too difficult to be back in foster care. Even though sadly foster homes were all she had ever known.
Hearing all this and now being twelve years old she thought to herself, I’m now too old for anyone to care about and now with no legs I am nothing. The only vision she had of her future was of being sent off to some dreary place, an institution with grey stained walls and gloom. And so, from that moment and with those thoughts she had just shut down to the outside world.
It had been some time and she had been waiting for the day she would be moved. And not knowing when it was to happen, she suddenly heard a lot of commotion outside the room and she was frightened.
From the hallway came the sounds of clattering and rattling from beds being moved, trolleys being pushed, people walking quickly and others saying do this and go there. It was never like this normally, ever!
But no one came to her room.
She was curious and for whatever reason felt oddly compelled to see what was happening out there and so for the first time, in a long time, she did something she always knew she could have done by herself. She pushed herself up from the bed and manoeuvring to the edge, sat up. Then stretching out to the wheelchair, grabbed it, pulled it over and collapsed into it.
Wheeling to the doorway she timidly peeked out into the corridor, what she saw was terrifying to her. All along the walls were people in beds, moaning, coughing, crying or sobbing, and all in pain.
The staff were scurrying around. And as soon as they would be tending to one person, they would be called to a new arrival. It was so confronting to her, all this was happening right there. All of this chaos in this crammed space where it had always been so empty and quiet.
Then across from her, from one of the beds something dropped to the floor but none of the staff noticed it fall.
It was a small teddy bear.
She wheeled across, and with difficulty picked it up. As she straightened up she was looking straight into the eyes of a little girl. A frightened, scared and crying little girl.
She seemed so small in that big bed. It was so sad to see.
She handed her the bear, “I think this is yours”. And for some reason she didn’t understand started to gently stroke the girl’s forehead. “Don’t be frightened. You will be okay here, you are safe”. The little girl smiled and said thank you, and was calmer.
In the next bed along and facing her was another person, an older man in pain. She moved to him and held his hand. “You will be okay. They are looking after you. This is a safe place”. And he settled.
A rushing nurse bumped the wheelchair and turned, and was slightly startled.
“Ruth what are you doing out of your room”. The nurse was startled because she had never seen Ruth out of her room, particularly by herself.
“What are you doing here sweetheart, it’s not a good idea to be out here”.
Ruth looked up at her, “I think I’m helping them feel safe”.
This was the first time she had spoken to anyone in a long time.
The Nurse saw in Ruth’s eyes something she had not seen in the months Ruth had been in her care. Something she had deeply hoped to see one day and tried in so many ways to help return. There in the eyes of this girl was a spark, and a person was emerging that she had strived for and longed to see.
She knelt down close and whispered to her, “Ruth you are doing a wonderful thing, you can stay here with them and help them feel comfortable. But if you get tired you go back to your room”.
The Nurse got up and walked away.
She turned and looked back at the scene of this young girl with no legs, going from person to person, holding a hand or giving a touch of compassion.
She knew in her heart she had witnessed an angel emerge from what had been a crushed shell. And that from one who saw no light in the world or purpose for being, there was now a radiated focused love for other people in need.
She did not want or need to know how this change had come about. But in the coming weeks when Ruth would be moved out, what she did know, was that from that moment she would ensure no matter what, that Ruth would now have a home with her. And as a family!
(Copyright 2022 Kevin Palmer, all rights reserved)