Jennifer Diveley shared the story of her daughter Bridget's medical journey at this year's Radiothon.
A year ago today, our daughter was dying.
A year ago my little girl’s heart was attacked by a virus,
causing it to become enlarged and unable to pump efficiently. Fortunately, we
had the Johns Hopkins Children’s Center in our backyard.
So each day I’d walk past the lobby and head to the
elevators and the 7th floor pediatric intensive care unit (PICU).
I’d arrive after dropping off our older two kids at school, to relieve my
husband who had stayed all night at our daughter’s crib side. Then, as now, the
Children’s Center’s annual Radiothon was underway. I welcomed the distraction,
the DJs interviewing children, the commotion in the lobby.
But as I listened the stories hit home. I knew some of the
doctors because some of them were caring for Bridget and her roommates. I heard the voices of parents
I came to know in the waiting room. I knew what they were talking about
and what they were going through. And as I listened it occurred to me that most of the listeners
had no idea of the greatness behind these walls. Sure, the doctors are the best
of the best, and the medical care can’t be beat. But there is so much more. For many children,
like my daughter, the Children’s Center became a home away from home. The doctors, the nurses, the Child Life
specialists, the nutritionists, the respiratory therapists, and even the
housekeeping staff, all went out of their way to make the kids smile.
So as I sat and listened to Radiothon last year, I felt
compelled this year to share something
that would give listeners a glimpse into the spirit of the Children’s
Center and how the littlest things can make a world of difference. So, when Bridget drifted off for a nap, I
came back down the elevators and told the story of the Beauty Box, a container
filled with cute barrettes, combs, lip glosses and other little beauty items. I
was introduced to it when one of the doctor’s commented on how cute Bridget
was. I looked at Bridget with her blonde hair sticking up every which way and
said, “If only you could see her when she is healthy and I have her hair in
pigtails.”
One of the PICU nurses overheard me and brought the Beauty
Box over. I was amazed at all of the different styles of ponytails and colorful
barrettes, all for my choosing. I then realized that people at Hopkins cared
for more than Bridget’s medical needs.
Two weeks after I shared the story of the Beauty Box,
Bridget received her new heart. Eight
days after her transplant, Bridget walked out of the hospital.
As I stand here today, with my daughter so full of life
almost a year out from her heart transplant, I can now fully see what the
Radiothon has been conveying each year. We are so lucky. The only hospital in
Maryland to do pediatric heart transplants, Hopkins Children’s literally saved
our daughter’s life. I can’t imagine
traveling to another hospital in another state, hours away from our family, our
support system, and our home. But
Hopkins Children’s was here for us, as it is for hundreds of thousands of
children each year. Regardless of where
they come from, they can be assured of one thing – every person they come
across at Hopkins Children’s will do everything within their means to make them
feel at home.