She knows everything
There was a seven year old girl who had been at the hospital for literally months. She had no escort with her most of the time because according to her, they were big drinkers. So she roamed the ward, knowing the ins and outs of everything that was happening.
She had rheumatic heart disease with severe inflammation of the heart and valves. Like the numerous other “heart kids”, she was supposed to be doing bed rest. Seeing her run around the ward, we asked her whether she was supposed to be resting and she answered playfully, “no, I’m a lung kid!” Ha, smart answer. That particular week our inpatient population consisted also of many kids who came for investigation or management of bronchiectasis – they were not only allowed, but encouraged to be active.
Another time, she “told on” a mother who absconded with her baby. They were in a bed on the other side of the ward so who knows how she knew to tell the nurse that they were “running away”. The child and mother had to be brought back in by police to complete treatment.
Still another time I saw her answer the buzzer for the door. She did a word for word imitation of the ward clerk who was on her lunch break – “pull the handle and close the door behind you!”
Insights into sin
In youth group we were talking about the issue of sin, and sharing about how it might be attractive, or addictive. We have a large age range, from early teens to late twenties. It’s a quiet group. But our thirteen year old boy spoke up and said he remembered reading something in the Bible about eating something sweet that tasted like gravel. What an unusual but apt verse to refer to about sin!
Food gained by fraud tastes sweet, but one ends up with a mouth full of gravel. – Proverbs 20:17
There’s more. “Sin, well it’s like people who take drugs. It releases endorphins so that you feel good. But you become tolerant to it. And next time you need more of the drug to have more endorphins.” I can’t remember his exact wording but he literally used the word endorphins and the idea of building tolerance and spiralling deeper into sin.
Who moved the stone
At home my sister (who is in primary school) and I talk about a lot of things, so the next few will all be snippets of conversations with her. One of the books I’m reading is “Who Moved the Stone?” which goes into the historic background and happenings leading up to the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus.
So my sister saw the book on my desk and said rather smugly, “I know who moved the stone.”
“Who?” she talked in a way that I had to ask, ha.
“The angel did it.”
Oh, he did too. So far I had read about events in the hours prior to his arrest. About the reaction of the disciples, Pilate, the Jewish leaders, and more. I think I even got to the part where the body was discovered to be missing by the women and the various thoughts different groups had on who stole the body away. But in the complexity of the text, I realised I hadn’t even thought about the question posed by the title, or the simple answer to that, until she said it.
Types of cancer
We have this game of “tell a story” where we tell a terribly mundane story about our day, or a story from the past, usually over dinner. For her it’s usually something like, I was doing homework and I almost fell asleep. Anyway, I told her about a girl around her age who has been sadly diagnosed with aggressive bone cancer, who wasn’t allowed to walk on her leg now, and was preparing to move to a big city for further treatment.
“Do you know what cancer is?”
“Yes, there’s brain cancer right? And she has bone cancer?”
“And there’s throat cancer? And boo…b cancer?”
“What?!” that sounded so weird.
“What, it’s true. I think it’s real right?” she was indignant, she knew she was right.
“Yeah, but I think it’s called breast cancer darling.”
Men and dishes
In the kitchen one day we were deciding who was going to chop spring onions and who was going to do the dishes. She told me emphatically that she hated washing up.
“Well, you know someone has to do it, especially when you grow up. Some married people fight about this sort of thing all the time. They say, I don’t want to do it. You do it.”
“Really…?” she asked, with disbelief. How could they be so childish.
“No, maybe they don’t say that. They just don’t do it. That’s why I don’t want to marry someone who doesn’t like housework.”
“I don’t think any men likes dishes.”
“Uh, really…” and how did you know what all men are like anyway?
“I don’t know. Don’t ask me, I’m not an expert about this.” haha, so funny!