tomorrow

One of my patients today was a little boy who looked a lot like a kiddo I took care of last year. If this were a contest, (and I'm not saying it is, because that just wouldn't be right) Abie would be a clear front-runner for the title of My Favourite Patient Ever. After this morning, I'm thinking Perrin could give him a run for his money.

Perrin is four, and he had surgery yesterday to straighten his two crooked little thumbs. His hands are wrapped in boxing-glove bandages and with his energy, he's clearly the patient that they made the siderails-on-kids'-beds rule for. He also speaks French and Fon with a perfect four-year old lisp, and for the first time this year, I cared for him and his mama without the aid of a translator. The fact that he spent the day calling me Tante Alice (Auntie Alice)? Didn't hurt him in the stealing-my-heart department. Not one little bit.

One of the best moments of the day came early on. I wandered over to his corner, peeled him off the ceiling and explained that he was not, in fact, allowed to jump on the bed. I handed him his morning vitamin; Il faut craquer, I told him, (one of my more recently acquired French phrases). You have to chew it. He gave me an impish grin which faded as soon as he bit down.

His face fell, and he looked at me with what I can only call disgust, his mouth hanging wide open. As clearly as he could manage through a mouthful of pill shards he glared at me and mumbled, Mon Dieu! with all the gravity of an eighty-year old man.

When I had picked myself back up off the floor, where I must have fallen in my laughter, I got him a glass of water to wash down the offending tablet. He accepted it solemnly, glared at me some more and then apparently decided to forgive me.

I spent the rest of the shift hearing his shrill voice calling me from across the ward. Tante! Jeu avec moi! Tante! Vien! Mange avec moi! Tante! Tante! Tante! We built towers from Jenga blocks spread out on a blanket on the floor. We let the charge nurse decorate both our faces with stickers. I sat next to him while he ate his lunch, and he obediently took the rest of his medicines for me, testing each one with the tip of a finger first to make sure I wasn't trying to poison him like I did with that vitamin.

When it came time to leave, he beckoned me over to his bed one last time. He was curled up next to his mama, ready for an afternoon nap. Will I see you tomorrow? he asked, visibly concerned. I told him I hoped so, that I'd try to come before he went home, and that seemed to satisfy him. He threw one of his bandaged fists around my neck, pulled me close and kissed me wetly on the cheek.

Demain, he confirmed, tomorrow, and then repeated in in Fon, just to make sure. Eeso. I kissed him on his forehead, close to where we were sporting matching little star stickers.

Eeso.