St. Grace Hospital had been like a second home to me.  I’d been racing the halls in wheelchairs with my best friend Barrett since we were five, and pressing my face to the glass to watch the babies breathe in the NICU.  Every day was filled with a new adventure; getting yelled at by Rosa for using bed pans as hats, or hiding in Barrett’s medicine cart to surprise him.  The number of birthdays I spent in the hospital because my mom was working late or Christmas Eve spent tearing through gifts with Barrett and the nurses. 

I believed today would be no different.  I truly believed I didn’t want today to be any different.  Because I had settled into a comfortable routine and felt safe.  I would take the subway from school to the hospital, grab everyone their regular coffee orders from Soul Roasters, and walk on over to St. Grace.  I would say hi to Rosa and Sam and Alex, before finding Mom and handing off everyone’s coffees.  I’d see what new facts Barrett would have for me, before going to help mom with delivering med carts or go say hi to more patients.

Except that day I wanted it to be different.  Except that day was different.  Except that was the day she changed my life.

The hospital doors slide open for me, Susan waves hello, and I smile back.  I hop into the elevator heading to the Pediatrics ward.  Mom should be there, and Rosa was probably listening to Barrett talk about how butterflies make cocoons or something.

The next set of elevators opens to reveal the busy floor.  Nurses type away information on their computers at the desk, and doctors weave back and forth to go down to different floors or visit patients.  The only thing out of place is the tall man talking to Rosa about something.

“Hey Rosa,” I say, sliding behind the nurses' desk, and setting the coffee next to her.  Rosa looks at me with fire behind her eyes.

“What have I said about coming back here?!” she seethes, swatting me on the back of the head.  I let out a laugh, swatting her hands away, as she goes back to talking to the man.

“Afternoon Susan,” I greet, leaning over the counter to hand her the coffee.  She gives me a nod of thanks and continues on her way.

“Would you get out of here?  Your mom’s up in the NICU, go bug her!  Aléjate de mí!” Rosa snaps, flapping me away with one hand, and handing me the tray of coffees with the other. 

“Si, si, voy!” I shout back before, heading to the elevator at the end of the hall.  I wave to the people I know, but my feet almost fall out from under me to see the door to room 510 is open.  No one had been in that room for like six months now.  I look around to make sure Rosa is occupied, before peeking into the room.

The bed is already made up of bright yellow blankets and pillows.  The window has plastic bins stacked orderly.  I look to the other side of the room to probably hundreds of pictures taped up onto the wall.  Of bright city lights, tall sculptures seeming to touch the sky, and beautifully blue oceans.  A desk rests under it all, with neatly organized jars of pencils, and pens a laptop set perfectly in the middle of the desk.  Journals and colorful plants flank either side with a calendar above it all. My brain is terribly confused--we had new people, but no one stayed long-term. 

Who was this?