Personal Narrative: Children's Surgery
“What’s your name?” I smiled at the tiny three-year old in the hospital bed. He had no hair, big eyes and the most beautiful eyelashes in the world. He smiled back quietly, seeming exhausted and lacking the animation and energy of a child I was used to. He pointed to the yellow hair tie I had around my wrist. I laughed and gave it to him. He pointed again, now at the Iron Man puzzle in front of him. Hopeful to cheer him up, I grabbed it and started pouring the puzzle pieces all over the bed. The boy became engrossed in the puzzle as his eyes searched through the countless pieces but after an hour, I had to say goodbye. The following day, I headed down to KK Hospital again. “He asked for you!” the staff at the Children’s Cancer Foundation (CCF) told me and so I visited him again. When he saw me, his eyes lit up and he pointed to his wrist where my hair tie now sat.
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The little boy never spoke, he only pointed and smiled, with a sense of weariness but also joy and utmost resilience. We did a puzzle together every week. He began asking for me by pointing to my hair tie on his wrist and when he saw me, he would do the same. Playing with him gave me joy and I hoped it made as much of a difference to him as it did to me. I was afraid due to the uncertainty of his diagnosis. However, the tenacity I saw in him gave me courage too. As our play sessions went on, his hair started to grow and after almost a year, he left the hospital. On his last day in KKH, he finally spoke the first word he had ever said in the ward. It was ‘Bye-bye’ and it was to me. Meeting this boy reminded me of my love for children and my passion for a career in child psychology. He was one of the many kids I had met through CCF and Eden School, who I felt were going through struggles no child should have to face. I believe these children with physical illness, mental illness and special needs should be given all the support they need and I wish to be a part of
The little boy never spoke, he only pointed and smiled, with a sense of weariness but also joy and utmost resilience. We did a puzzle together every week. He began asking for me by pointing to my hair tie on his wrist and when he saw me, he would do the same. Playing with him gave me joy and I hoped it made as much of a difference to him as it did to me. I was afraid due to the uncertainty of his diagnosis. However, the tenacity I saw in him gave me courage too. As our play sessions went on, his hair started to grow and after almost a year, he left the hospital. On his last day in KKH, he finally spoke the first word he had ever said in the ward. It was ‘Bye-bye’ and it was to me. Meeting this boy reminded me of my love for children and my passion for a career in child psychology. He was one of the many kids I had met through CCF and Eden School, who I felt were going through struggles no child should have to face. I believe these children with physical illness, mental illness and special needs should be given all the support they need and I wish to be a part of