19 March 2010

Inspiration

One of the great joys of moving back to Portland has been reconnecting with old friends. Many of these people are folks I've thought about often over the years but have not been in regular touch with, save updates from my parents who run into their parents in the neighborhood. A number of these friends have kids close in age to Maddie and Riley, and all of them have turned into interesting, insightful people, so it's been fun to reconnect.

One of these friends is Amy Moore Paterson. I have known Amy since we were in fourth grade. We were fairly close through grade school and high school, although we'd not been in regular touch since high school graduation. I knew that she'd graduated from college, married a great guy, settled back in Portland, enjoyed a successful career, and had a son.

I also knew she'd been diagnosed with breast cancer when her son was a toddler. If memory serves, Amy was in treatment when John was, although I think her cancer experience was unfolding as his was coming to a close. What I remember for sure is that when my mom told me about Amy's diagnosis, it hit too close to home. I was brimming with empathy, yet paralyzed about reaching out. I thought about Amy a lot, although she probably didn't know that.

But this post is not about my guilt. This post is about how amazing Amy is. She is one of those people who used her cancer experience as a catalyst for action. One of the things that struck her as she went through her treatments was how hard it was to arrange for childcare during all of her appointments. She thought it would be nice if hospitals could offer that service. And, working with a friend, she found a hospital that was willing to back her vision and create My Little Waiting Room.

I remember one time that John had one of those awful, unrelenting nosebleeds. It had been going on for hours, and as night became day, it was clear that he needed to go to the ER. The twins were probably around eight months old. Why we didn't call 911 or at least call a friend to stay with the twins, I don't know, but we didn't. Instead, we packed ourselves, the twins, their stroller, the diaper bag, and who knows what all else into the car and drove to one of the downtown Boston hospitals. There, we paid some ungodly amount of money to park and hauled our sorry selves into the ER. We were quite a sight with our double decker stroller and bloody towels and wide-eyed babies.

Once John got checked in and settled, I packed Maddie and Riley up and took them to their daycare, which was, by then, open. Then I went back downtown to be with John. How nice it would have been to leave M&R at a child care center right there in the hospital! There's something so comforting about having your whole family together in a time of crisis like that; perhaps that's why we all trooped downtown together in the first place. We managed, but onsite care for the twins would have certainly made things easier.

Last night, I had the privilege of attending the dedication of My Little Waiting Room's space. I'm so excited for Amy, and proud of her accomplishments. I know so many amazing people, with so many amazing ideas. I'm so happy to see Amy's idea become reality, and so happy for the families who will benefit. Thanks, Amy.

13 comments:

Christie said...

How wonderful! Your friend must be feeling a great sense of accomplishment. Good for her! Thank you for sharing.

Anonymous said...

That is amazing! My sister-in-law is battling cancer right now. She is a stay-at-home mom (so no day care/nanny) of a 2 year old and a 7 month old. They live on the opposite coast as the rest of their family, so they have to rely on the kindness of their friends when they need to go to the hospital. What a wonderful service for the hospital to provide.

Mama Mama Quite Contrary said...

What a wonderful idea and so important!

Lyndsay said...

Way to go Amy! What a great idea. I've been in hospital a handful of times since my 5-year old was born. Every time, Hubs and I thank our lucky stars that we have family nearby to help us out. We've seen people in the emergency room with their terrified children and it breaks my heart.

Liane said...

First, I think that My Little Waiting room is a fabulous idea, and I love that she made it happen.

Second, I was there! We were having our twin group meeting in a room down the hall, and I stood there and listened to the dedication.

Sadia said...

Oh, what a fantastic program!

Austin has a free counseling service (Wonders and Worries) for children whose parents are seriously ill. I'm sad that other cities don't have anything like this. I know two families whose little boys are as whole as their in the face of their parents' illness because of it.

Anonymous said...

I volunteer at that hospital and saw the flyers about it - thought it was such a great idea! Very cool for her and for those who will need to use it down the road.

Tamar

OTRgirl said...

That's a great idea! Thanks for the link. It's amazing to see how she's transformed her experience.

Rachel said...

Wow, that's a great idea. I know so many people are juggling kids/ cancer. Amy sounds amazing. I'm glad you were able to reconnect with her.

Maggie said...

Thanks for sharing this inspiring story!

Supa Dupa Fresh said...

I always felt our daughter should come to the hospital with us, when she could, until things got really bad, because we were fighting for "life" and she was part of it...

What a great advance your friend is responsible for! So many hospitals we were in didn't even have comfortable waiting rooms for those with small children.

Thanks for sharing! I'll tweet it!

Anonymous said...

That is a wonderful thing. I know there are times that my husband has to gofor a "quick" test or even for treatment that it would be a God send for us to have that. Thanks for Sharing!

Luvily said...

What a wonderful idea. I have a friend that was recently diagnosed with breast cancer and she has a little girl at home that she will need to find childcare for. All she can do is lean on her girlfriends and we are happily there to help her, but it is still so hard for her.