Marshall isn’t one to sleep through the night.  And tonight I am having trouble getting back to it. 

So not only do I get to watch the little man sleep but I have the time to share a really powerful story.

In the company of a great nurse who Marshall is quite fascinated with, I heard a story worth repeating. 

Over the course of our late night transplant and heart babies conversations, Marshall’s nurse offered me ample reassurance regarding the possible paths before us.

For his patience with my endless questions, I can’t thank him enough.

And, more importantly, Marshall’s nurse reminded me again of how lucky we are that Marshall is here.

Tonight’s discussion revealed that Marshall’s nurse has a remarkable history with Boston Children’s.   He bears the scars.  

We all have them…they are like stories carved into our flesh.  His raised my curiousity and he graciously offered to share this:

Marshall’s nurse was a patient here. AT age 11 a roller blading incident and “minor” helmet-less fall caused a brain bleed. His father rushed him to the hospital in his undercover Boston Police Department car.  He underwent brain surgery within minutes, went into a coma for two weeks, and remembers only the events of his recovery.

And now he is standing in the middle of the night watching over my youngest son. 

In the years since his experience as a patient here, he volunteered his time helping any way he could – “from holding babies to playing with kids.  I would have been cleaning floors…there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do.  So when I finished nursing school…”

“Of course you came here!”  I helped.

I don’t know how I managed to finish his sentence with the lump in my throat and gigantic goosebumps on my arms.

My son’s life was (and still is) in the hands of the Boston team.

Just as our nurse’s life was.

And we are all still here, supremely thankful and exchanging stories. 

Breathe…