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After the fall


By Louise Kinross

Today is International Day of Persons with Disabilities.

We're marking the occasion with an interview with Pia Pearce, mom to Kevin Pearce (above), an American snowboarder who was expected to win gold at the 2010 Vancouver Olympics.

Then a crash head-first into ice almost killed him.

The Crash Reel is a raw, exuberant film that follows Kevin's wild success, devastating accident, and hospitalization for a life-changing brain injury. The film takes us into the world of Kevin’s close-knit family, which includes four brothers, one of whom has Down syndrome, and the gruelling rehab that follows.

BLOOM: What is it like to have two children with disabilities?

Pia Pearce: What’s even more interesting is that in addition to David having Down syndrome and Kevin having a brain injury, my husband Simon and sons Andrew and Adam have dyslexia, so my whole adult life has been about special education. I have a doctorate in education. So it’s interesting how life turns out and we all get what we need.

BLOOM: How did having children with disabilities influence the way you responded to Kevin’s injury?

Pia Pearce: I think it was incredibly helpful to me. I had learned, over the course of time, a lot about patience and acceptance and a lot about understanding differences.

Even though David, who has Down syndrome, didn’t have major health challenges, we started early intervention with him when he was only three months old. I feel I was very fortunate in many ways with my background in education and experience with the medical field.

I had learned that you can take things that can be challenging and difficult and see a silver lining and a positive side to them. For example, my husband, who didn’t do well at school, was a huge success at home and his family celebrated all the things he was good at.

BLOOM: What kind of prognosis was Kevin given early on?

Pia Pearce: We were never given definitive information because all brain injuries are different and everyone’s rate of recovery and ability for recovery is vastly different. When we were at the rehab hospital there was a floor for patients with spinal-cord injury and a floor for those with brain injury. It was surprising to learn that everyone with a spinal-cord injury seemed to have a very similar recovery process but with brain injury there was a huge variation.

BLOOM: How long was Kevin in hospital?

Pia Pearce: He was in intensive-care for 28 days and a step-down unit for six days at the University of Utah and then he was in the Craig Rehabilitation Hospital in Denver for three months.

BLOOM: How did Kevin end up in Denver when you live in Vermont?

Pia Pearce: When Kevin was in intensive care, a good friend of ours said he’d help by doing research on rehab hospitals. He spent a lot of time on the Internet and making phone calls to other parents whose children had been in rehab. He determined that Craig Hospital would be best and then my husband and son Adam and our friend went to visit Craig Hospital and made the decision.

BLOOM: How were you able to pack up and move to Denver?

Pia Pearce: I was very lucky. It’s amazing how things fall into place and friends step up when you need them. One of my closest friends from my first year in college lives in Denver and she had a friend who had a house available. The house was on the market and they said that until it was sold, they were more than happy for us to stay there. It wasn’t far from Craig Hospital. So Simon and I moved there and our son Adam decided to take a year off from his job to be with Kevin every day in therapy.

BLOOM: The bond between Adam and Kevin really came out in the film.

Pia Pearce: They were very, very close before the accident and Adam knew exactly what would motivate Kevin. Because of the lack of insight that comes with brain injury, when Kevin came out of intensive care he thought he was way better. He wanted to go home. Adam was with him all day, every day, in therapy and was able to bring humour to the situation and make it bearable.

BLOOM: As a parent, what was most challenging?

Pia Pearce: We’re coming up on five years and Kevin is still working on his recovery. Kevin has always been very particular about the therapists he worked with. He either really liked them or he didn’t. One of the hardest parts was finding the right therapist that was best matched for Kevin.

Kevin’s had a terrible time with double vision and trying to find people to help him with his vision has been a major struggle. He’s hugely excited right now because he’s finally working with a doctor in Atlanta, Georgia who specializes in brain injury and has helped enormously.

I feel really fortunate that Kevin has been so motivated about his recovery. He was born a very determined little boy. He came out into the world with perseverance, determination and wanting to work hard and that’s why he got so good at his sport. He then took those gifts and talents and applied them to his rehab. I think the hardest thing for parents would be having a child who doesn’t feel motivated and who gets discouraged easily—and the amount of extra support that child would need.

BLOOM: What helped you keep a positive mindset?

Pia Pearce: I can’t say enough about family support and the hospitals we were in valuing that part of the process and including our whole family. I didn’t have any experiences of places where we as a family were pushed aside and that would have been incredibly difficult.

I was able to support Kevin because I was getting support from my family.

I think family support, in all different ways, is critical. I learned early on that it was better if fewer people were with Kevin, because he got easily overwhelmed. I come from a big family and I had to ask them not to come and tell them they were supporting me by not coming. Some of our family was front and centre, taking shifts with Kevin and rotating. To other people I said ‘This is a marathon, not a sprint, and we’ll need you later.’

BLOOM: Families here say they often receive tremendous support initially but then people go back to their own lives.

Pia Pearce: It’s hard for others to sustain that kind of support when it’s not something like a broken leg that gets better in six weeks. For other people, your situation falls off their radar. The same is true for the friends of the young person. Kevin was very fortunate to have very good friends. But I’ve talked to other parents who were desperately unhappy that the friends of their son or daughter were leading their child astray, minimizing their injury and saying things like ‘You’re okay. You can come for a drink.’

BLOOM: Some parents say they have to mourn the loss of the child they once had to accept their child after brain injury.

Pia Pearce: I have to be totally honest and say that wasn’t a big issue for me. I didn’t see any value in going there. Or maybe it’s what we talked about earlier—that because I’ve had so much experience with accepting differences, my focus is on acceptance. We’ve worked forever with our son David, who has Down syndrome, on accepting who he is.

I’m a firm believer in the importance of feeling your feelings and feeling the grief. I’m not about denial.

However, there was a lot about Kevin’s extreme snowboarding that was nerve-wracking for me. So I thought at least I don’t have to go to those events and stand at the bottom of those mountains freezing cold and full of anxiety. What he was doing snowboarding was very hard for me.

The other big thing was that even though he had setbacks, overall he kept getting better.

BLOOM: Some people with brain injury have a change in their personality. Was this the case with Kevin?

Pia Pearce: Some of Kevin’s friends would say he’s quite different now. But I just experience who he is now and in some ways he’s more open and communicative than he was before and more aware of how blessed he is and how important it is to live in the moment.

I understand the sense that the person isn’t exactly the same, and some people with brain injury change more than others. It’s good to acknowledge one’s feelings about who the child was in the past, but getting stuck on them isn’t very helpful.

My present moment is so full and busy I don’t see the value in choosing to spend a lot of time grieving what was or could have been. I was amazed that Kevin did as well in snowboarding as he did. Maybe if I had been the parent who wanted more than anything for my son to win a gold medal in the Olympics, I would have felt differently. But that wasn’t the important thing for me.

BLOOM: What would you recommend for parents who may be stuck in grief?

Pia Pearce: Support groups for caregivers are very helpful. I’m also a big fan of talk therapy.

BLOOM: In the film one of Kevin’s friends talks about how their roles shifted. Kevin used to be like his big brother and mentor, and now their roles are reversed. Have roles in your family changed?

Pia Pearce: I’m the mom and I’m still the mom and I’ll always be the mom! My role hasn’t changed. Adam’s role changed the most. Adam and Kevin were in the world of competitive snowboarding together and travelled together. They went from being brothers and best friends to one being so injured and the other being part of the caretaking team.

I think it’s important for family and siblings and friends to adjust their expectations of the person with brain injury, based on the ramifications of the injuries. I remember a therapist said it was hardest for parents when they didn’t get enough information from doctors so that they could adjust their expectations realistically.

BLOOM: What kind of brain injury did Kevin have?

Pia Pearce: He had an injury deep in the centre of his brain. He had to relearn everything—to swallow, walk and talk. It was like starting over with a baby, but on this warp speed. The major issues were memory, his balance and vision. He still has a lot of problems with double vision.

BLOOM: Kevin’s brother David, who has Down syndrome, plays a central role in the film.

Pia Pearce: A number of people say that David is the secret star.

BLOOM: I agree! How important was David’s plea that Kevin not return to competitive snowboarding because he didn’t want him to die?

Pia Pearce: Kevin and the other boys are very independent-minded and I realized that if I put on too much pressure it wouldn’t be helpful. But David could speak from his heart and Kevin could really hear him.

BLOOM: In one of the most moving parts of the film, David talks about hating Down syndrome.

Pia Pearce: David has a therapist and we’ve worked on that in therapy. We’ve always told David we want him to love who he is. Kevin, Adam and David have taken the film to the National Down Syndrome convention and other self-advocacy events and focused on the theme of acceptance. It’s had a very positive impact and David now is able to say that he does accept his Down syndrome.

It has been hard for him to make close friends—not so much in the elementary grades, but as he got older. More recently he has a close friend who he’s calling his girlfriend and that’s making a big difference in his life.

BLOOM: Does David work in your husband’s business?

Pia Pearce: He has three part-time paid jobs. He works in our glass-blowing business, and at a payroll agency and at our local fitness centre. He loves to work out at the fitness centre and they employ him in the operations department folding towels and filling soap dispensers.

BLOOM: What did Kevin find to replace the joy he got out of snowboarding?

Pia Pearce: He does still snowboard, but he does it for pleasure. He goes where it’s safer, where they have deep powder. He’s more aware of what a huge risk it is.

The biggest thing for Kevin and Adam right now is the foundation they started called Love Your Brain. They want to improve the quality of life of people living with brain injury. Their big push is offering free yoga classes to people with brain injury and their support workers. They’ve got pilot programs in Vermont and New Hampshire. Kevin has benefited so much from yoga and mindfulness meditation.

Kevin and Adam were just speaking to 900 managers at a Lululemon conference in Vancouver about partnering with them to promote yoga.

BLOOM: The film covers Kevin before and after the injury. Did you begin work on it before his accident?


Pia Pearce: No. We had a lot of family footage we’d taken and when Kevin began rehab, Adam and my husband Simon were great at having a camera around all the time. The doctor said that Kevin wouldn’t be able to see how he’s getting better, so it would be important to show him through video. We were able to give that footage to the director, Lucy Walker.

BLOOM: Has participating in the documentary helped or harmed the healing process for your family?

Pia Pearce: The process has been hugely helpful to Kevin and David. I can see how much it’s also helping other families who watch the film. That’s been a fantastic feeling for me: to take something that’s been so incredibly challenging and difficult and stressful and have amazing, positive things come out of it. One of the things I was happy about was that when we watched the rough cut I felt it was really honest. I felt it was an honest, accurate portrayal of who we are and how we dealt with it.



'There is something magical about this place'

By Louise Kinross

Stephen Dustan is a 23-year-old rehab services student doing a placement at Holland Bloorview. He works with life-skills coach Sarah Keenan, meeting youth in the community to help them set independence goals. Stephen knows our hospital intimately. As a child with cerebral palsy he attended our integrated kindergarten program. Since then he’s been an inpatient and outpatient; a Spiral Garden camper and volunteer; a high-school co-op student in our integrated kindergarten (working with his old teacher Paul Alcamo); and he now works part-time as a recreation assistant with our inpatients. One of our family leaders suggested we interview him.

BLOOM: Why did your parents choose our kindergarten for you?

Stephen Dustan: I think what attracted them most was the fact that I would have therapy and be in a place that was equipped to handle my needs. They loved the idea of it being integrated with community kids because that gave you such important skills of being able to articulate your disability to able-bodied kids, which is something you’re going to do lifelong as a person with a disability.

BLOOM: What do you remember about our school?

Stephen Dustan: I remember having my disability explained in a way that I understood and in a way that I could explain it to other kids. My 'go-to' is that my brain got cut-off from oxygen at birth, damaging the way my muscles communicate to my brain. So my muscles are tighter and don’t grow properly like normal kids’ muscles do.

BLOOM: Did that explanation satisfy most kids?

Stephen Dustan: They often gave me a blank stare. It kind of went over their head but it kind of sunk in. I found my willingness to explain it beneficial. Kids are just curious, they’re not mean by nature, and if you provide them with an answer, they usually were pretty receptive and understanding.

BLOOM: What was it like to move to your local school for Grade 2?

Stephen Dustan: The moments when I would feel different from the class were when everyone was getting ready for recess, especially in winter, and it would take me longer, so I’d have less time outside to play. Getting an educational assistant in place for me was difficult and took some time. But I was good at self-advocacy and stating my needs. So I asked whether I could get ready five minutes earlier than the class. My disability was never an issue for me socially. I have an older sister and I had the support of her and her friends so the kids in my class gave me respect. I always had friends to confide in and rally around me. It wasn’t until Grade 8 that I experienced some bullying.

BLOOM: What happened in Grade 8?

Stephen Dustan: I did my last year of elementary school in a new school that opened in my neighbourhood, so I was starting again without friends. I fell into a group of friends that were kind of mean to each other and very political. I did experience some bullying and I definitely can relate to the isolation that that causes: the feeling of not wanting to go to school; hearing whispering and thinking it’s always about you. I told my friends and parents but I never got the authorities involved. I waited it out until high school and it got a whole ton better then. I remember on the first day of high school I was really nervous and I came through the doors on my scooter and there were three of my old friends from elementary school and instantly I knew that it was going to be fun.

BLOOM: What is your university program like?

Stephen Dustan: I found this York/Seneca rehab program where you get your BA in psychology, which I now have, and then a certificate in rehab services. It’s a general program that covers all aspects of rehab. What I like most is that I had the opportunity for field placement.

BLOOM: What did you do as a placement?

Stephen Dustan: Two years ago I worked with The Centre for Dreams, which is a day program for adults with developmental disabilities in Markham. I worked with clients on social goals, life skills, self-care and vocational skills. I had never worked with clients with developmental disability and it was a really great experience. I got a new appreciation for how honest people with developmental disability can be, how kind they can be, how open hearted they can be. It was a privilege to work with the clients and the staff.

BLOOM: What are you doing in your placement here?

Stephen Dustan: I’m in therapeutic recreation and life skills working in the community with Sarah Keenan. I’m learning about the life skills process, the different ranges of goals that clients set and how to achieve these goals. It’s very solution-focused.

BLOOM: Have you found anything about the work surprising?

Stephen Dustan: I knew I would like it, but the amount I like it surprised me. Life-skills coaching is definitely something I could see myself doing and having this experience with Sarah helps me in my job as a casual staff on the inpatient unit being a recreation assistant. I can apply what I’m learning to both situations.

BLOOM: What is your favourite part of the work placement?

Stephen Dustan: I love the element of counselling and coaching and being a part of someone’s development. My future goal is to pursue a master’s in social work and get into counselling.

BLOOM: Does it seem unusual to you that you spent so much time here growing up and now work here?

Stephen Dustan: Holland Bloorview was such an integrated part of my life. I never had any negative feelings around this place. For example, I didn’t connect it to the more traumatic elements of my recovery after my surgeries when I was an inpatient here. It was physically painful to do rehab, but it wasn’t emotionally painful or painful in a way that would make me not want to come back.

BLOOM: How would you describe Holland Bloorview?

Stephen Dustan: It’s incredibly unique and alive. For me it’s been a place of recovery and opportunity and it still is. There is something magical about this place, especially the Spiral Garden program. I went there when I was little and I later volunteered there. They’re phenomenal at putting this element of imagination, of magic, into a place that traditionally shouldn’t have any. From my time working at Spiral Garden and on the inpatient unit in general I’ve come to see the amount of work and organization that go into creating that recreation hour with the clients gardening. How many people pour their heart into what they’re doing, the amount of organization and heart and energy it takes.

BLOOM: Has your view on disability changed over the years?

Stephen Dustan: When I was a kid I always had this idea that you’re not disabled, you can do anything a normal kid can do it will just be a bit more challenging or you’ll do it differently. That helped me tremendously as a kid, but now as an adult I can recognize that it’s not a matter of me not being disabled. Disability can be an identity, a social identity. So much of my strength has come from 'being disabled' that I no longer see it as a weakness or something you have to distance yourself from or deny. It’s something you can accept and in some ways celebrate.

BLOOM: What are some strengths that have come from your disability?

Stephen Dustan: I think there’s a depth, an internal space that I have to hold things, to connect with people, to understand people’s struggles and emotions. Because I’ve been placed in intense situations that most people don’t experience, I’ve got insight into where strength and hope come from when it’s really dark. I know that that light is inside everyone and you have to find it and if you can relate to it in an authentic and real way, you can make that light brighter in yourself and in someone else.

BLOOM: So disability isn't something you need to 'overcome?'

Stephen Dustan: No. I’ve done a few disability studies courses that opened my eyes to the idea that disability is really a matter of social barrier and not a matter of something being biologically wrong with a person. It’s not about overcoming tragedy. It’s more about transforming tragedy into triumph, but not in the sense that you move past it or get over it. You accept the disability with such wholeheartedness that it no longer is something that impedes you on your path.

BLOOM: What was it like to come back as a placement student in the integrated kindergarten you had gone to as a young child?

Stephen Dustan: So many memories that were foggy came flooding back. Paul is exactly the same in every way I remember him. He still gets the most stoked about dinosaurs of anyone I know. I remember as a student I knew every dinosaur’s name and now I can see why I was so passionate about that topic—because Paul was.

BLOOM: What impact do you think you had on the kindergarten students when you came back?

Stephen Dustan: I hope they can see themselves in me and we have that connection. It’s the idea of 'Hey, I made it, I’m doing well and you can too.' I hope they take from my example that they too can be a part of this world in a real and authentic and powerful way. I try to remind myself that I’m a role model and to hold myself accountable to that.


Here's a photo of Stephen as a co-op student in the integrated kindergarten. By Paul Alcamo.

This mom is a lifeline for inpatient parents

In 2006, Lies Ferriman’s 15-year-old son Sasha sustained a severe brain injury while snowboarding. He was in a coma for 10 days and spent seven months at Holland Bloorview in intensive rehab as both an inpatient and outpatient.

Five years later, Lies (above) became a family mentor at the hospital, sharing her firsthand experience with other parents of children who are inpatients.


“Holland Bloorview was like a lifeline when we were here,” Lies says. “So I wanted to give back to other families who are experiencing similar things. I want to impart the fact that you’re in this horrible situation at the moment, but it will get better. It will become a new normal.”

Once a week Lies and a family support specialist invite parents of children who are inpatients to meet in the Family Resource Centre. “We go onto the unit and knock on doors and introduce ourselves and invite them downstairs,” Lies says.

Each meeting is an opportunity to share practical information—like resources and funding available in the community—but also to talk about how families are coping with their child’s rehab and “to listen to any burning issues the parents have,” Lies says.

“There’s a sense of community and a sense that you don’t feel so alone. We try to have the topics very broad so that they address a variety of disabilities and there are nuggets parents can glean that are useful for their child. I’m also amazed with the different cultures and religions we get around the table—it’s like a cross-section of the world. And it’s useful to have all of these different perspectives.”

Lies says parents often feel comfortable confiding their concerns and experiences with a parent who’s walked in similar shoes. “They tend to be completely open with us.”

She says she needed a few years’ distance from her son’s injury before she was ready to support families. “You need to be emotionally ready,” she says. “You need to have some distance where you can look back, and your feelings aren’t still raw.”

Lies says the qualities she brings are an ability to listen to family stories and to share part of her story when it relates to a situation which a parent may bring up. “I’m very passionate about my role. And it’s a reciprocal experience. I get so much out of it.”

Lies has logged over 700 volunteer hours in her work as a Holland Bloorview family leader. In this video she talks about what it's like to cope with a child's acquired disability.

To find out more about our family leadership program, call 416-425-6220, ext. 6420.

A refuge for parents caring for kids in hospital

Once a week Claire Stoten sits on a meditation cushion and focuses on her breathing. “It forces me to stop doing all of the jobs—the organizing, e-mails, research and care for my son,” she says, sitting in her son Felix’s inpatient room at Holland Bloorview.

Felix, 13, who has a neuromuscular condition, had a 10-hour surgery to fuse his spine at the end of March. Prior to that his spine was so curved he couldn’t sit up, his mother says.

For the second week in a row Claire has participated in a 40-minute mindfulness session for parents of inpatients and daypatients. Without the structure of the hospital program, she says, she'd never set aside that time for herself.

“It comes back to that analogy of when you’re in the airplane, the parent is supposed to put the oxygen mask on first, because if they don’t, they may pass out before being able to help their child,” says Anna Marie Batelaan, social worker in the brain injury rehab unit at Holland Bloorview. Anna Marie has been leading a weekly mindfulness session for parents for four months. “They need to take care of their own needs to have more ability and energy to care for the child.”

Mindfulness involves paying attention to the present moment, Anna Marie says. “It’s giving yourself permission to focus on you and focus on the here and now, without judgment. Our minds are constantly busy and this is one way to pause and catch your breath and refocus.” Anna Marie says our bodies are built to focus on the negative, but we can retrain our brains to notice and appreciate the positive.

“This is new to a lot of families, so we’ve been doing multiple short sitting meditations of three to five minutes,” Anna Marie says. “Parents learn how to focus on their breath or we do a body scan and they send loving energy to different parts of the body. We’ve also done walking and eating meditations.”

Research on mindfulness shows that it reduces worry and stress, boosts working memory and focus, makes you less reactive and more adaptive, and improves relationships. “There’s a lot of evidence that it works with anxiety and depression and posttraumatic stress disorder,” Anna Marie says. “A lot of our parents are dealing with the posttraumatic stress of witnessing a child’s accident or illness that changed their child so dramatically.”

Anna Marie says the greatest challenge is to get parents out for a first visit. “When their child is hospitalized they tend to put their own needs way down on the list.”

She usually starts parents with meditations that focus on the breath because “they’re easy to learn and can be done anywhere and anytime. We talk about how you can fit this into your day. A parent will say ‘I’ve done it on the toilet.’”

Claire says she leaves the mindfulness session “feeling relaxed and peaceful.” Then, as a way of expanding the session, “I go to the cafeteria for 20 minutes and have a coffee. And I don’t let myself start any jobs.”


Here are some tips for beginning meditators. Anna Marie can be reached at 416-425-6220, ext. 6353.

'Thank you' will never be enough


In 2008, Ontario gymnast Taylor Lindsay-Noel was on track to compete with the Canadian team in the 2012 Olympics when she broke her neck while attempting a difficult dismount. Taylor, now 16 above, spent 18 months in rehabilitation at Bloorview Kids Rehab and recently wrote and read this tribute to the nurses who worked with her as a goodbye gift. It speaks to the invaluable role our nurses play! Thank you Taylor for sharing with us and congratulations on being home!

The words 'thank you' will never be enough
By Taylor Lindsay-Noel

Somewhere down Kilgour, there is a little place called Bloorview,
I’ve been there 18 months and I have sure enjoyed the view.

I have met a lot of people, some nicer than the rest,
but there is one thing I can say, their staff is by far the best.

The nurses of this hospital have seen me grow and mature,
and it is hard to say goodbye, I’ll miss them for sure.

But enough with the sappy stuff, it’s time to lighten up,
let’s discuss all of those nurses I’ve grown to love so much.

First comes Danielle, that funny energetic gal,
she’s so fun to be around, and she’ll always be my pal.

Diane, oh Diane, we bonded in the kitchen,
we laughed and joked and she showed me she’s still a spring chicken.

Bev, what to say, she’s one of the most down to earth people I know,
when it comes to enjoying life, she is definitely a pro.

Who could forget the infamous Grandma Josie,
she’s always willing to lend a hand and to make you feel cozy.

Next we have Anna, we never got into a scuffle,
I’ll miss her good manners and I’ll miss her Asian Shuffle.

Vee, Virpal Gill, she’s kind, thoughtful and slim,
and she’ll be the perfect nurse when she decides to hit the gym.

Let’s see who’s next, Nasteho of course,
she’s amazing, fun to hang with, and she’s as strong as a horse.

Then comes Michelle, you’ll never catch her in a quarrel,
but if you want to see her mad, just ask her to say SQUIRREL!

Bola, Bola, Bola, Bloorview’s African Beauty,
loved by all and missed when not on duty.

Glenn, O-M-G, that loveable teddy bear,
one of his funniest moments is when he tried combing my hair.

Who's next, of course Sarah who I have most on nights,
she is a pleasure to be around and she’ll make your day bright.

Luz so gentle, so warm, so polite,
she is definitely one to go to when you need good advice.

Auntie Glennis comes next, Bloorview’s residential mom,
she’s loving, huggable, and knows how to keep people calm.

Shawna, she’s spunky, she’s unique and she’s loveable,
her personality is envied by most and she has proven that she is noble.

Melissa is one of those nurses who is guaranteed to make you smile,
she is a person you want as a friend, a nurse you can definitely trust with a child.

All of these nurses who I adore, nonetheless,
but let’s get on with this poem and see who comes next.

Jhanina, oh Jhanina, a water-pusher some patients might say,
I was so deprived from her loving when she was so far away.

Hilary, that girl is a big ball of fun,
she is a pleasure to hang out with, and I’ll miss her a ton.

Carolynn that sweetheart never sees work as a chore,
she’s hardworking, creative and I wish I saw her more.

Lindsay is funny, vigorous, and an overall delight,
and when she’s around you, you won’t want her to leave your sight.

Then comes our singer, her name is Lisa,
she gets a kick out of scaring me, but boy I am going to miss yah!

Tina, my lord how she could make people laugh,
with her on the staff, this place is first class.

Romayne, Romayne I love her so dear,
but the nurses will never forgive her for creating those damn bunny ears!

Next we have Joy, she is a fun-loving character,
she always told me right from wrong and loved playing with my straightener.

Cheryl, she is so out-going, fun and fiery,
and we both enjoy watching our ‘fave’ show V Diaries.
Tracey that jokester knows how to keep the fun flowing,
she’s spontaneous, amazing and no matter what she is always glowing.

Charlotte, she’s a nurse I’ll keep close to my heart,
and when it’s time so goodbye, it’ll be hard for us to part.

Through the hard times, the good times and all in between,
these nurses have proved they are far above supreme.

Their love, their spirit and all of their dedication,
have made it so hard for me to leave this location.

Through my time here at Bloorview I’ve made a lot of friends,
and I am so sad that my time here has come to an end.

To the nurses the words thank-you will never be enough,
and it’s time for me to say goodbye, although it’s so tough.