The Best Present of All

It was at this time a year ago my wife and I took turns watching over our very sick daughter. Those parents reading this can most certainly relate to that especially helpless feeling you have as you care for a sick child.

Small and helpless, we took shifts watching our 4 year old daughter throughout the night, hoping that on Christmas day we would see a little spark of life return to her eyes as we slid a present onto her tiny lap. The bright wrapping paper and shiny bows had no effect on her. She was literally a shell of her former self – the life seemingly gone from her.

After watching her quickly decline over a short few days, we called our pediatrician’s nurse on duty to seek counsel. We quickly received a call and explained her symptoms. To our shock, we were told to take her to the emergency room. Even though we were told it was just to be safe, we were nonetheless a little concerned.

After arriving at the emergency room, we were shortly ushered in, and a staff of very caring nurses and doctors went to work on our little girl. Breathing treatments were administered, readings were taken to measure heart rate and oxygen saturation, and all the while she just lay there barely reacting to all of the goings-on – so unlike her.

After almost eight hours of observation and treatment, the staff solemnly entered our room, and informed us they would be transferring her to another hospital with a pediatric intensive care unit.

Stunned:

We were stunned – breathless – as we tried to grasp what was happening to our daughter, what was going to happen to her. It was Christmas day after all, a time when families were laughing and enjoying their gifts, right?

As tears raced to our eyes, every question came to our mind: What is going to happen? What did we do wrong to put our daughter in harm’s way? Would she be OK?

Authoritatively and sincerely the head nurse explained why, explained how, and answered our questions. Our daughter wasn’t breathing correctly and in a child so young, she needed to be very closely monitored.

The emergency transport came, and gathered her. My wife rode with her and I followed behind. We were ushered into her new room, as many nurses swarmed around making our new home as comfortable as possible for her.

There were many sick children and families living their Christmas holiday out of an intensive care room. Under the cover of dimmed hallway lights and in whispered breaths, family members moved about the hallways. As our eyes met, I could sense they too felt as if they were in some purgatory – between life and death.

It was a hollow and timeless feeling, waiting on any word from nurse or doctor – learning to read the many monitors surrounding our daughter’s bed and attempting to translate the varied beeps. There were no gifts to be given in our small room, and very few visitors. It did not seem like a true Christmas.

Solace:

In such dire times, it seems that the human mind seeks solace in small things… and so it was with our family. The staff at the hospital kindly offered us to partake in their small holiday feast and the doctors kindly brought small gifts to each of the children on the floor – a small doll for our baby girl.

But it was not even these things that seemed to matter. Yes, they did demonstrated that generosity during these times does indeed live. But more importantly me, my wife, and my daughter spend three entire days together in a small room.

We did not have many visitors, aside from the hospital staff and some close family. All of our Christmas gifts laid unopened on the floor at our house. We did not think about a world outside of that room for those days.

It was in each other that we found Christmas, in seeing our daughter once again smile and laugh. It was in those moments, when the rest of the world was busy living their lives and ours had stopped, that we once again discovered a gift in each other; worth more than anything you can buy or hold, our small family found peace and happiness, not wrapped and hidden under a tree, but in a small hospital room that served as the box for the best present of all.

Ken Stewart’s blog, ChangeForge.com, focuses on the collision between the constantly changing worlds of business and technology. To learn more about Ken, visit his about page. You may also find Ken on FriendFeed, Twitter, and LinkedIn.