“Cancer is like rust,” he explained to Shelly. “Did you ever get rust on your bike?”
Shelly shrugged. “Sometimes, near the wheel.”
“Well. Our job is to use the best medicine made to get the rust
out. Understand?”
She nodded and pressed her dry lips together.
“You see, this place is for kids just like you. This is a hospital for children and it’s named after St. Teresa. Do you know who St. Theresa is, Shelly?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, St. Theresa is a Roman Catholic saint. You just can’t go wrong when you have St. Theresa on your side. So let’s see if St. Theresa can make a miracle happen for you.”
Shelly looked up as he continued to explain.
“You may need to work hard, so are you ready to fight something I call a war against cancer?”
“My daddy died in the war.”
Wall looked at Carol, then turned back to Shelly. “I am so sorry to hear that.” He leaned in toward Shelly and glanced at Carol.
“Let’s get you to your room and meet your new roommate,” he
said. He stood and grabbed the handles of her wheelchair.
“Well, that sounds like fun, huh, Shel?” Carol chimed in. A nurse joined them as they traveled down the hall to Room 1604.
“Hi, my name is Kristen,” said her ten-year-old roommate. Kristen was fighting cancer of the adrenal gland, a very rare type that Dr. Wall had been trying to combat with everything he knew. Shelly extended a meager wave, looking around the room with two beds, a sitting area, and plain white walls. It smelled like
medicine.
“So, what’s wrong with you?” Kristen asked.
“I have cancer,” Shelly said matter-of-factly.
“We all have cancer,” Kristen responded. “Some are really bad, and some are not so bad. Mine’s bad. Is yours?”
“I don’t know. Dr. Wall said it was called a tumor.” “Is that a bad one?”.
A nurse helped Shelly get settled into her bed. “All cancer is bad, sweetheart.”
“You guys get to know each other,” Dr. Wall said. “I need to take
Shelly’s mom outside for a minute. Okay?”