Lauren's Devotion

Our daughter, Lauren sent us a copy of a narrative she wrote for a class at FGCU.  It's based on her experience the first time she came to the hospital to see Nick.  I'd like to share her beautiful devotion with you...

My Hero Behind the Window

            My mind was still. I drove my car for an hour in complete silence with the whistle of the AC ringing behind my frozen thoughts. It was like the past 11 months were all a dream, and a moment that seemed in the distant- was now happening.

            I suddenly arrive as if the last 60 minutes has turned into one. I pull my car through the drive through and hand my keys to the valet with what little strength I could muster. My eyes fix on the sliding glass door ahead that reads the word that has haunted me for months- “cancer.” My mind blurs all of my surroundings as I make my way through the still hospital air. I finally arrive at the elevator, a 20-foot journey that seems to take a lifetime.  My eyes are locked on the illuminated “3” without regard for any of the other people in the elevator with me. I make my way out of the elevator and start down the hallway. The cool crisp air makes my skin crawl, almost like my body is completely rejecting the idea that this is actually happening.  The hallway seems endless, with every twist and turn another blank white path awaits me. The humming fluorescent lights showering me from above while the smell of rubber gloves and hand sanitizer burn my lungs with every breath. Finally, the sealed doubled doors face me, and I stop dead in my tracks. I stare, blank, still, silent.

             I finally muster up the strength to break the seal of the doors to enter the first room of the bone marrow transplant unit. Harrowing images flood my mind of my father lying weak on a hospital bed latched to various tubes and wires, trying to mentally prepare myself for what I am about to see. I am welcomed by a woman sitting at the front desk who immediately says “Please wash your hands thoroughly over there,” As she gestures to the spotless white ceramic sink in the corner, she continues “then come take a mask and apply some hand sanitizer before entering the BMT unit please.” I nod and begin to make my way to the sink. The boiling hot water against my skin doesn’t burn as much as the pain inside my heart. I suddenly hear a knock on the second set of doubled doors. I immediately turn around, with hands still doused in scorching water and soap when I see the only thing that could’ve made me smile. My father-my hero- standing, smiling back as me through the small rectangular window in the door. I beam with a smile bigger than you could ever imagine, as he waved at me with such joy that I can feel a sense of warmth radiating in my heart. He has one hand waving at me and one hand on an IV pole carrying multiple bags of fluids and chemotherapy drugs but all I could focus on was his beaming smile. I quickly snatch a mask from the receptionist and burst through the doors into the BMT unit. Without thought I motioned for a hug which I quickly realized was against the rules. We exchange a look that said it all. I was in shock; -just 3 days after a bone marrow transplant here he was- up, walking around, and with the biggest smile on his face. In this moment I realized there was nothing that could stop him; anything is possible. We were nowhere near the end but I just knew this was a fight he refused to lose. And until then, I have never felt such comfort or hope. I believed him beyond measure.

Lauren Vojnovic 
Professor March - ENC 1101 
14 February 2017

(Nick and Lauren pre-transplant)