11:00 a.m. Monday: Gloria Esmeralda Elias has bright, black eyes that will catch your attention from across a room. With a tuft of hair tied straight up on the top her head, she was one of the unforgettable “way too cute” kids that came through my photo station on Thursday. On Friday, I wrote this paragraph about Gloria and her family as they awaited her surgery near me in the pre-op room:
Gloria, a 20 month old sweetheart who is completely missing the center of her upper lip, is wearing a skirt of traditional woven fabric. Blues, yellow and green in random patterns. Her dad scoops her up, gently rocking her as he shuffles near the crib. Mom, dressed in a similar skirt, sits looking through the doorway into the recovery room. Within one or two hours Gloria will have a new lip and be able to close her mouth for the first time.
This morning, I stopped at the pediatric ward to greet the children who had arrived last night in preparation for today’s surgeries. Gloria and her family had just been cleared by the pediatrician to go home, after spending an extra two days in the hospital due to respiratory complications. Without her top knot and now with a fully closed lip, I didn’t associate her with the little girl who had captured my heart a few days earlier. I jotted her name and chart number in my notebook so I could retrieve her “before” photo. The change was stunning.
I called doctors, nurses, other team members, anyone who was nearby to come and see the photos. The doctors pointed out that she still has a long way to go. Judging from the smiles on Gloria’s family, I think that didn’t really matter on this day.
Gloria, a 20 month old sweetheart who is completely missing the center of her upper lip, is wearing a skirt of traditional woven fabric. Blues, yellow and green in random patterns. Her dad scoops her up, gently rocking her as he shuffles near the crib. Mom, dressed in a similar skirt, sits looking through the doorway into the recovery room. Within one or two hours Gloria will have a new lip and be able to close her mouth for the first time.
This morning, I stopped at the pediatric ward to greet the children who had arrived last night in preparation for today’s surgeries. Gloria and her family had just been cleared by the pediatrician to go home, after spending an extra two days in the hospital due to respiratory complications. Without her top knot and now with a fully closed lip, I didn’t associate her with the little girl who had captured my heart a few days earlier. I jotted her name and chart number in my notebook so I could retrieve her “before” photo. The change was stunning.
I called doctors, nurses, other team members, anyone who was nearby to come and see the photos. The doctors pointed out that she still has a long way to go. Judging from the smiles on Gloria’s family, I think that didn’t really matter on this day.
1 comment:
Thanks for allowing us to see it too.
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