Dustin St. George, MSIV
22 today. It's her birthday and here she sits in what would be silence without the noise of her vented trach. I can't blame her for her frustration and agitation toward her family and the staff. She has fought this fight for what has to seem 1000 times by now. This isn't just a missed birthday with her friends outside these walls; this could be any one of a dozen missed memories; prom, graduation, dates, road trips, life.
Her battle has been life-long and even small victories in this fight yield little light. Cystic Fibrosis is a horrible, terrible disease. Why this girl? Why anyone?
So here I sit next to her in silence as we stare into the screen of a muted television. I feel helpless and inadequate as a member of her team. It's my third day in the ICU. I can't even explain to her what she is hooked up to. She probably knows more about it all than I do anyway. But here I sit; I wouldn't want to be alone, not on this day. So here I sit. 22 today; her birthday.