ARR 1988 - Flipbook - Page 129
on the twelfth of December I saw Jason-and his ever-present IV bags-being wheeled into the elevator. He was headed for the Pediatric Ward, a
transition point between Intensive Care and home. He didn't smile-hadn't
since I first saw him-but his mother and father were wrapped in grins. I
asked him to come back and visit us when he could walk again, and he
thanked me for all we had done to help him. But as the elevator door dinged
shut, I pondered my renewed interest in my work and the very positive
results, and could not help but wonder just who had helped whom.
Robert Watts
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