Pediatric Ward Quotes

It is the certainty of never that hurts most. The knowledge that I will never eat star-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with her in the pediatric ward again. Never dance around her living room, headbanging our wigs to the beat. Never watch her paint a new masterpiece. I understand why people believe in the afterlife, why they soothe themselves with the faith that those who are no longer with us still exist elsewhere, eternally, in a celestial realm free of pain. As for me, all I know is that here on this earth, I cannot find my friend.

I kept thinking how grateful I felt to have been part of this magnificent team. For five months we had been one unit, all specialists and all tackling the same problem together. The staff at the pediatric ICU and the consultants in the children's center reacted spectacularly. They rallied behind us and spent countless hours without charge, working to make this operation successful. As pessimistic as I was about the eventual outcome of the surgery, I still felt a glow of pride in being able to work side by side with the best men and women in the medical field. And the end of the surgery wasn't the end of our teamwork. The postoperative care was as spectacular as the surgery. Everything in the weeks following the surgery confirmed again our togetherness. It seemed as if everyone from ward clerks to orderlies to nurses had become personally involved in this historic event. We were a team--a wonderful, marvelous team.

Ohh, what are you knitting?” Sandra asked Angie, deftly changing the subject. “It’s an anatomically correct model of a human uterus,” Angie replied. “I’m giving it to Dawn as a consolation prize.” My head snapped around to stare at her in horror. “What?” Angie snort-laughed. “Kidding. It’s a Peppa Pig for one of my nieces.” Sandra’s lip curled in an expression of distaste. “I rue the day that bacon-limbed hellspawn entered the children’s television landscape. It’s all I hear in the pediatric ward all day long. That precocious, insufferable little pig haunts my dreams.

He pitied Bill, of course, and he might have offered some encouragement, some advice, or a ride to his weekly AA meeting, but it seemed Bill was still in denial of his demons. Graham knew his own demons too well. They lived in the pediatric cancer ward.