by kc dyer
We don’t really have a problem with wealth and poverty here in the hospital, but we do have some other BIG problems. I’ve decided the answer to our problems is a Sick Kids’ Manifesto. I have an enthusiastic supporter in Kip, who agrees with me wholeheartedly. Now, if I can only get Logan to pay attention we might all benefit.
So far, this is what I have:
EVERGREEN HOSPITAL
SICK KIDS’ MANIFESTO
A spectre is haunting this hospital. The spectre of totalitarianism. Too many nurses and doctors are taking too much power over the proletarian patients. And the parental bourgeoisie just look the other way.
We, the Proletarian patients, DEMAND ACTION.
Okay, so that’s what I have so far, Abbie. I’m not quite sure what action we will actually demand. For myself, I would prefer a little inaction for a change. Less interference in my personal space. But action will be taken — I guarantee it. I just need to think it through a little more.
Oh, and by the way, one of the things I AM thankful for is that you are willing to listen to me. That weird art therapist is always wanting me to embrace my inner child or admit to some terrible family secret. I’m trying to grow up here, Abbie, not revisit my inner child. And my worst family secret is that my mother didn’t make it as a movie star when she moved to California in her youth. Pretty bad, huh?
Jacqueline
November 25
Logan K.
Before noon.
Why I am Thankful by Logan Kemp
I am thankful because my gut is improving and a couple of days ago the doctors even started using the word remission. I didn’t even know what remission meant until today — always thought it had something to do with cancer, I guess.
I am really thankful that it looks like I’ll be able to come off the IV line (aka the Useless Contraption) pretty soon. The nurses have already given me a few hours off it here and there. But being off Useless will mean I am one step closer to getting out of here and back onto the rugby pitch. (We play even if it snows. You’ve gotta be tough to play rugby.)
I am thankful that the little kidney kid is okay, too, though he is still pretty sick. The nurses might seem tough around here but, let me tell you, they are totally harsh in ICU. I couldn’t even sneak in to give the kid a few Skittles. Still, I managed to wave the bag at him through the window as an incentive to get better. I’m sure he saw me.
Weird Cleopatra was on my case about the Skittles, too. She ranted at me for five minutes about not offering Kip temptation. What’s life without a little temptation, for crissakes? Personally, I think she wanted them for herself.
Okay, I know this piece is supposed to be about thankfulness, so here’s a good one for you, Abbie. I am thankful I am not as weird as Cleopatra.
I thought she was weird before, but this is the worst. Yesterday when I was finally allowed to unplug from Useless for an hour, I went out to the courtyard. You know it, right? It’s not really enclosed, more like a letter C. Anyway, when I got down there I stretched out on a bench in the sun to catch a few rays. (Lucky I did, because it looks like snow out there today.) Anyway, after a few minutes I heard something so I opened my eyes and who do you think was down there skulking about? Weird Cleopatra was creeping along, face practically on the ground, pockets stuffed with plastic bags. How she even managed to get out of the ward is a mystery to me.
I was lying on the back of the bench facing the other wall so she didn’t notice me watching her through a slit in the bench. Abbie, the chick was picking up dog crap. Yeah, you read that right.
Okay, I know she’s got control issues but what kind of neat freak cleans up the hospital grounds after the local dogs? I think she’s got a new obsession with dogs. Did you see that journal entry the other day? Ten pages about her stupid dog. I love dogs, but ten pages? I hated that dog by the end. (Oh, and by the way, I figure you must have hated it, too, since I notice her little dog essay has disappeared from your notebook. Way to go, Abs!)
So, to wrap up, I am thankful that one day when I get a dog it will not be as weird as Cleopatra’s dog.
Logan
November 25
Logan K.
Sometime on a crappy snowy afternoon.
Just so you know, Abbie, cancel all the stuff I said I was thankful for. I am thankful for nothing. Evergreen High School stinks and the rugby team stinks and the biggest stink of all comes from a coach who would stab one of his most focussed players in the back.
I’m going to bed.
Logan
8
This had to be the stupidest idea he’d ever had. Reading his own words on paper made Logan feel sick. He hadn’t known — really known — how hard it was for Cleo back then. Even the note to Abbie from Cleo’s teacher showed things were bad. But she wasn’t the only one with problems.
The loss of his position on the rugby team still felt like a physical blow. Logan took a deep breath as the bus lurched forward after yet another stop. He turned his breath against the glass of the window but the cold still defeated him. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t win.
A few stops back he’d held his palm to the window until the feeling had completely left his fingers, but in the second or two before the window frosted over his palm print, he had still been unable to see any kind of place sign or landmark. Clearwater was the last stop on the night’s run, so there was no danger Logan would fall asleep and miss it. And stupid idea or not, Cleo was out there somewhere. There had to be a way to make things right.
November 26
Jacqueline H-M.
Abbie,
I wonder if you can please send the attached note through by e-mail to my mother. The internet down the hall is broken again and of course I can’t borrow Kip’s computer anymore.
Thank you for your help, Abbie.
Jacqueline
Hello Mother,
When you get a moment, could you please call me at the hospital? I’ve tried you several times but it always flips to your voice mail and the box is FULL. I am anxious to hear about how Nona is doing. She hasn’t sent me any letters or cards for two weeks at least. And I wanted to tell her how well I did on the essay I wrote about her.
Your daughter,
Cleopatra
Evergreen Hospital
ICU Ward – Desk 11
Office: 101-45l6-7890
November 26
To: Ward Nurses – Children’s Ward, Desk 9
Re: patient Kip Graeme
Please note that patient transfer has been completed from the Intensive Care Unit to the Children’s Ward.
cc Dr. Rob Valens, MD, DFM
cc Ms. Abigail Zephyr,
Education Department Head
November 27
Kip Graeme
(I can’t believe I got talked into this. This better give me some kind of good Samaritan points, Abbie. L.K.)
Hi Abbie,
This is Kip. Logan said he would type for me since I feel so crummy and I can’t sit up yet. But I wanted to tell you that I am happy to be back here in this ward. I even got Logan’s bed! They moved him into my room so I could be with you during the day. I like sharing a room with you, Abbie!
(Hey — I like the privacy. He’s all yours, Abbie. L.K.) Logan, no typing what I am not saying. What are you typing now? Cut it out.
(Okay, okay, kid. Just joking around. L.K.)
Abbie, I am so sad that my donated kidney didn’t work. But maybe I will get another new kidney soon. My mom says I am on the list to try again so that I don’t have to be hooked up to this machine for life. It is called d____s.
(No way I can spell that, Abs. You know what the kid means, right? The kidney cleaner thing. L.K.)
Logan has been really cool. He drew all these amazing cartoon pictures of cars that I have all over my walls now. Thanks, Logan!
<
br /> (This is really stupid, Abs. I’m only writing this because he said it. And I didn’t twist the kid’s arm or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. And they are NOT cartoons, kid. Illustrations. They are illustrations.)
He also told me how he is teaching himself to drive by using his mom’s car when she is asleep.
(Okay, now that’s privileged information, Abbie. You can’t divulge that by law, right?)
Thanks for typing for me, Logan. Doctor Robbie says I can sit up tomorrow, so I will type my own then.
From,
Kip
November 27
Logan K.
Afternoon.
Thanks for taking my scribing job for Kip as my journal entry for the day, Abs. You rock!
And I am now finally free of the Useless Contraption. The nurse just removed my IV shunt. Bonus!
Logan
November 27
Jacqueline H-M.
Hello Abbie,
I just reviewed the segment Logan typed out for Kip. Thank you for confirming that the contents of this notebook are confidential. I certainly would not want any of the following information getting out.
I just had a very disturbing telephone call from my sister. It seems she was invited to a party held by a group of sorority sisters at the state college. My sister was thrilled to be invited but was very perturbed when she arrived and found a number of girls my age were also in attendance. Including the one and only Adine Terrapini. It seems Adine’s sister (one of the sorority girls) gave each of the younger girls a different coloured lipstick before they opened the doors and displayed a room full of fraternity boys who had obviously been invited earlier. Helena told me that the girls were invited to a rainbow party. All the girls had on bright colours of clothing but I don’t think they really understood what was going on, Abbie. Helena said she and a bunch of the other girls left as soon as it became clear where the rainbows were supposed to show up. But she said Adine stayed behind, laughing and drinking Jack Daniels with the fraternity boys.
This makes me feel quite sick. I’m so glad Helena left the party. I even — and I can’t believe I am writing this — wish Adine had left, too. (Apparently Helena kept the lipstick, though. She said it was a very pretty coral colour.)
Jacqueline
November 28
Kip G.
Hi Abbie,
Okay, this is really funny, Abbie. Logan just told me that Jacqueline just got caught putting dog poop in her toilet. For some reason Logan looked really upset, but I think it is a pretty funny joke to play on the nurses. Jacqueline is always mad at the nurses. She says she has no privacy. I just hope they know she was joking. It is a pretty funny joke, don’t you think, Abbie? She won’t get in trouble, will she?
I can see Jacqueline through the window to Logan’s room, but the door is closed and I can hear him shouting. He must be mad about something because he is banging stuff around in there again. I guess we can laugh about this later.
From,
Kip
November 28
Logan K.
After cooling down some — afternoon, I think.
Hey Abs,
You may have already heard from Cleopatra about our little dust-up this morning. I just blew a gasket, Abbie. I mean, I did read the note she wrote to me. I do get that she’s battling something that I don’t really understand and I am really trying not to bug her about it.
But I’ve been thinking about this. It seems to me the biggest dragon she has to slay is herself. And when I found those laxative wrappers stuffed into my garbage can today… well, I just lost it. You know I’m not commonly a garbage picker, but today Kip wanted to see what the rough copy of the latest panel of my graphic novel looked like, so I went back through the old pages I had just thrown away. And there were the wrappers, in with all the paper recycling. And I sure as hell knew that I haven’t been eating chocolate laxatives.
What really bugged me is that she denied it. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. I mean, she’s denied barfing in my bathroom. She’s had heart problems right from the time she got here and denies those, too. But lying to my face that she put the wrappers in my garbage? Well, anyway, it wasn’t a good scene.
I don’t know if she heard anything I said. She did admit doing it, in the end, but she was crying pretty hard. Abbie, I honestly didn’t want her to cry, just to come clean that she had been lying to me. I guess I didn’t realize until we had the fight that she had also been lying to herself. I tried to tell her that she is worth something, and she shouldn’t just throw her life away. Apparently she’s been trying to reach her mother, but the woman has been too busy to see her own daughter, for some reason. Parents can really screw you around sometimes. I should know. My dad hasn’t actually found time to speak to me in months. And Cleo does have someone on her side. I mean, the chick’s mother might be an idiot but at least her grandmother loves her.
Anyway, when she got mad she threw something at me. If she comes to talk to you, maybe you can tell her I have it.
I guess the good thing is that I didn’t kick any walls in this time.
Logan
November 28
Kip G.
Hi Abbie,
It’s just me again. Kip. I can’t find you and I need to tell you something important. Logan is gone. Dr. Valens stopped by and signed him out this afternoon and his mom came and picked him up. It was so sudden! I think he was surprised. He came in and gave me all his car drawings. They are not cartoons, Abbie. This is Very Important to remember. His mom was all dressed up when she came to get him, but I don’t think he wanted to get dressed up, too. I thought he might be happier to go home, but he looked a bit sad. He couldn’t find you or Jacqueline to say goodbye to. I pretended I was you and gave him a hug and he pretended to be mad but I know he wasn’t really.
I’m sad he’s gone. Do you think he’ll come to visit me?
From,
Kip
November 28
Cleopatra Jones
11:56 p.m.
Abbie, I don’t really know what to say. But whatever I say, I want to do it now — before my birthday actually gets here. I’m so sorry I let you down. And I’m even sorry I called Logan a snivelling, sneaking, spying slime, too. I was going to apologize to him in person when we’d both cooled down a bit, but then Kip told me he had been discharged. He’ll probably never come back here again. I wouldn’t if I was him.
It was so nice of you to stay late tonight to make time to talk with me. You were right. Stooping to collecting… you know what… was a sign that things have gotten a bit out of control.
But you have no idea how gross these nurses can be. I mean, I’ve been here for almost a month now and I’ve gotten pretty used to Medusa and her moods. I’m not sure I believe you when you say they want the best for me. Well, I guess I do know they want the best, but they don’t always find the nicest way to go about it. I knew they were monitoring my food intake once they took out the naso-gastric feeding tube. I just didn’t know they kept track of my food output, too.
So thank you for speaking up for me. I truly won’t put any more dog poop in the toilet, I swear. It’s too disgusting to collect, anyway. I just wanted to pay Medusa back for doing something so dehumanizing and personally embarrassing to me. I know it was wrong. I even knew it at the time. I know she really wants the best for me and I’m not the easiest patient in the world. And writing the Sick Kids’ Manifesto got me thinking about taking power into my own hands. So when I got the idea, I just couldn’t resist.
I know, I know. It was a really stupid idea. And now I AM sorry.
Not only that, Abbie, but I am going to get better. Really. I’ve put my mind to it, and you know what a good mind I have! I realize now that this was not behaviour befitting anyone named Jacqueline Hornby-Moss. Which brings
me to my last point.
I can’t believe I am actually writing this, but Logan was right about one thing. ONLY one thing, but still.
I AM proud of my Nona. And I am proud of my name. My mother named me for one of the most beautiful women who has ever lived. I know I will never be able to live up to it. But no more Jacqueline Hornby-Moss. It’s reality time, and you helped me see that. (I guess Logan did, too.) So thank you.
Cleo
November 29
Kip G.
Hi Abbie,
My dad is going to give me his kidney. He says that he had some tests done after my other kidney stopped working and the day before yesterday they came through as A-O-K. My mama didn’t want me to worry so they saved the surprise for today. It’s Cleopatra’s birthday and I get a new kidney all in one day! Jacqueline says that I should call her Cleo now, and that Jacqueline was just a dumb made-up name she has outgrown now that she is fourteen. (I like Cleo better, anyway. It’s easier.)
I have to go now. I’m a little scared but not very. My dad will be in the operating room next to mine. I will see you soon, Abbie.
Love,
Kip
Evergreen Hospital
ICU Ward – Desk 11
Office: 101-45l6-7890
November 29
To: Ward Nurses – Children’s Ward, Desk 9
Re: patient Kip Graeme
Patient Transfer – Surgery followed by ICU. Kidney transplant.