(Ch. 32 of my story of my journey into Deafhood…)

Photo by: Richard Alexander Caraballo

Toward the end of my hospital stay, I finally got to see my little sister, whom we affectionately call “Tootsie.” Tootsie, who was then 7, had not seen me since the morning I left for the hospital nearly two weeks earlier. Though she had been in the waiting rooms, the hospital had strict rules about having children in the patient’s rooms, which she and others thought was absurd! I guess hospital staff think that children touch everything and they might play with buttons and dials in hospital rooms, which could be hazardous to the patient. But my little sister was not the kind of kid who would mess with hospital equipment. All she wanted to see and touch was me!

Photo by: Adele Booyse

I’m not sure how she did it, by my mother finally found a way to sneak Tootsie into my recovery room for just a few minutes to see me. Maybe she was smuggled in by walking in between my step-dad and my brother who also came into visit. How she got there wasn’t important. The fact that she was there made us both very happy. My little sister and I are very close. When we saw each other, we immediately embraced.

Photo by: Jay Star

My absence over the last couple of weeks had impacted her in a different way than others. We had shared a bedroom together at home for years. She told me she slept with my step-sister or my brother on some nights while I was in the hospital because it was just too hard for her to constantly stare at my big, empty bed.

She began telling me that she was one of the few people who were not allowed to see me because of her age, and she balked at the injustice. She explained how she had to rely on facial expressions and body language of those who saw me because she couldn’t understand the medical terms they were using. Though Mama tried to reassure her that I was doing better, she needed to see for herself that I was okay.

Photo by: Steve Wall

Fighting back her tears, my little sister finally said, “Sissy, I was so scared! I thought you would die!” I told her I loved her and that I was going to be okay. We hugged again. Then my mother held Tootsie close while she buried her head in Mama’s embrace.

My younger brother, Martin, then 16, also came forward and gave me a long hug. At a loss for words, he simply looked me right in the eyes and told me quite seriously, “Never scare me like that again!” We laughed and hugged. It was the strangest sensation as I sat there with my siblings. It was clear that they were seeking closure. It was as if I had been away at war for years, or on some long and daring journey. Now they were ready to welcome me back and end their long and mournful vigil, glad that I had finally arrived home safeguarded.

Photo by: “??”

Then my brother and sister began to chit chat with me. I focused on their mouths as they told me it was over 100 degrees outside and how lucky I was to have been in my air conditioned hospital room for so long. It dawned on me then that I had no idea what day it was. When I asked them, I was surprised to learn how long I’d been in the hospital. I had been there 2 weeks so far! The summer was passing me by!

I brought up college registration once again to Mama, and she and my step-dad laughed telling me not to worry about it and that we would deal with it when they got me home. “You just get yourself well and out of here,” Roger bellowed.

(Footnote: You have been reading the chapters in my summer storyblog entitled: My Journey Into Deafhood, which tells of the first recognition of my deafness and waking up to a world of silence. It also tells of how I grieved, coped, adapted and then thrived as I learned to embrace my Deaf self. Thank you for reading! The final installment will show on August 8th, 2007. More coming soon…)

Posted by LaRonda on Saturday, July 28th, 2007 at 4:40 am.