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| Chapter 9 - Memories of Max |
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There are lots of very good times when tending a child with cancer. These are the times when there is no outward sign of illness. Your child may be bald from the chemotherapy, but this can be hidden by a hat. These are times of joy and yet they are so surreal. You may even be at a point where no medicines have to be taken and so there are no battles with your child. You are there as a family, together, and it is almost like a holiday. At the forefront of your mind is always the fact that you are ‘different’ from any other family you see but you can spend a day or two pretending to be like the rest of the world. Those were very good times. |
There were also many bad times. |
There was an seven year old boy in the hospital. He’d just had an operation and was recovering from the anaesthetic. This often causes patients to become confused, upset and disoriented. |
Two nurses were trying to comfort him as he came round but were confronted by a disturbing violent sobbing rage. |
“Would you like a drink?” |
“No, it hurts.” |
“Where does it hurt.” |
“It hurts everywhere, just leave me alone.” |
“The hurt will not last long, you just need to relax and the hurt will start to go away.” |
“Just go away and leave me alone. I hate you all.” |
“Calm down, would you like a drink or something to eat?.” |
“Leave me alone, I hate you, I hate all the nurses, and all the doctors and I hate this hospital. I just want to tear the walls down and smash it into the ground. I hate it all.” |
This scenario lasted for about ten minutes as the nurses tried to calm the ranting angry child. |
His father was standing by. “What can I do to help, what do you want? I’ll do anything to help, just tell me what you need and I'll help you.” |
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| Copyright © 2001 |
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