A year ago today was one of the happiest days of my life. Sofia entered the hospital on July 19th last year. At that time, we had no idea if or when she might be able to come home. Forty-nine long days later, on September 6th, Sofia finally made it home. I still remember pulling into our neighborhood and wondering how she might react. I remember showing her the painted rocks in front of our house that our neighbors had made for her while she was away. I remember it took multiple trips from the car to the house to bring in all the belongings we had accumulated over those 49 days—so many amazing and kind gifts given to Sofia while she was in the hospital would finally be home where they belonged. It felt like a massive milestone at the time, and I recall it giving us a ton of hope for Sofia’s future.
So, it’s a little ironic that today was the day I ended up going back to that same place we had celebrated leaving. Today, I returned to Children’s Hospital for the first time since Sofia passed away on April 14. I had meant to go back sooner, but the idea of seeing those familiar halls was an emotional obstacle I wasn’t yet ready to overcome. I didn’t intentionally choose today because of its significance. In fact, I hadn’t connected the dots until I started walking towards the main entrance. I wanted to return because I felt like I hadn’t expressed enough gratitude to the staff and the amazing people we met during her 10 months of treatment. In the moment, you appreciate the support and care you’re receiving, but I didn’t have a true appreciation for it until these last few months, where I’ve been able to reflect on our full experience. The support they provide to families facing the most difficult challenge imaginable is incredible. We felt very fortunate to receive great medical care, but almost equally important was the environment they helped create that allowed Sofia to have a wonderful quality of life despite her battle with cancer. I have so many incredible memories of Sofia from our days together at that hospital, and I felt a responsibility to thank them all for that.
The emotional obstacle wasn’t quite as significant as I expected it to be. The familiar walk down the steps from the parking lot and through the main entrance felt more like returning home from a long vacation. I stopped to grab a coffee at the Starbucks that I had visited practically every morning. I watched parents with their kids and imagined myself back in their shoes. Every step I took felt like I could have taken it with my eyes closed. I knew this place so well. The elevator ride to the eighth floor started to prove more of a challenge, though. By the time I exited the elevator and began walking towards the oncology rooms, my heart was pounding. I had planned to open those final doors and say hi to anyone I recognized before leaving them a thank you card and some photos of Sofia. But I couldn’t do it. Instead, I stopped at the social worker’s office and asked if our social worker, Ilana, was around. She was, and she was nice enough to spend some time catching up with me. Our amazing doctor, Dr. Caron, joined us shortly after. I wasn’t expecting her, and it was, by far, the most emotional part of my visit. She had done so much for Sofia and our family, and I hadn’t seen her since. It was incredibly kind of her to take time out of her day to be with me. She had some unbelievably kind things to say about Samantha that meant a lot to me. I also had a chance to catch up with Suzanne, who was responsible for managing all of Sofia’s treatment. It was very nice to see familiar faces who all meant so much to us.
I hope to return again soon and take those few extra steps into the area of the 8th floor where we spent the most time. But I’m glad I made it as far as I did today, and I hope the letter I left for them will help affirm how big a difference they make in the lives of their patients and their families.
So, it’s a little ironic that today was the day I ended up going back to that same place we had celebrated leaving. Today, I returned to Children’s Hospital for the first time since Sofia passed away on April 14. I had meant to go back sooner, but the idea of seeing those familiar halls was an emotional obstacle I wasn’t yet ready to overcome. I didn’t intentionally choose today because of its significance. In fact, I hadn’t connected the dots until I started walking towards the main entrance. I wanted to return because I felt like I hadn’t expressed enough gratitude to the staff and the amazing people we met during her 10 months of treatment. In the moment, you appreciate the support and care you’re receiving, but I didn’t have a true appreciation for it until these last few months, where I’ve been able to reflect on our full experience. The support they provide to families facing the most difficult challenge imaginable is incredible. We felt very fortunate to receive great medical care, but almost equally important was the environment they helped create that allowed Sofia to have a wonderful quality of life despite her battle with cancer. I have so many incredible memories of Sofia from our days together at that hospital, and I felt a responsibility to thank them all for that.
The emotional obstacle wasn’t quite as significant as I expected it to be. The familiar walk down the steps from the parking lot and through the main entrance felt more like returning home from a long vacation. I stopped to grab a coffee at the Starbucks that I had visited practically every morning. I watched parents with their kids and imagined myself back in their shoes. Every step I took felt like I could have taken it with my eyes closed. I knew this place so well. The elevator ride to the eighth floor started to prove more of a challenge, though. By the time I exited the elevator and began walking towards the oncology rooms, my heart was pounding. I had planned to open those final doors and say hi to anyone I recognized before leaving them a thank you card and some photos of Sofia. But I couldn’t do it. Instead, I stopped at the social worker’s office and asked if our social worker, Ilana, was around. She was, and she was nice enough to spend some time catching up with me. Our amazing doctor, Dr. Caron, joined us shortly after. I wasn’t expecting her, and it was, by far, the most emotional part of my visit. She had done so much for Sofia and our family, and I hadn’t seen her since. It was incredibly kind of her to take time out of her day to be with me. She had some unbelievably kind things to say about Samantha that meant a lot to me. I also had a chance to catch up with Suzanne, who was responsible for managing all of Sofia’s treatment. It was very nice to see familiar faces who all meant so much to us.
I hope to return again soon and take those few extra steps into the area of the 8th floor where we spent the most time. But I’m glad I made it as far as I did today, and I hope the letter I left for them will help affirm how big a difference they make in the lives of their patients and their families.
This picture was taken on Sep 6, 2023. Just hours before we would finally come home with Sofia. Even after 49 challenging days spent in that bed, Sofia was smiling as bright as ever
Sofia enjoyed playing Doctor. This picture was taken in the playroom near our room.
One of my favourite photos. Sam would take a picture of Sofia every time they arrived for check in visit or to begin a week of chemo. Most people wouldn't imagine a little girl looking so happy to return to a hospital for cancer treatment. Speaks to her incredible bravery and the care we received from the team at Children's
I’m sure it meant so much to them that you came to express ur gratitude for their work and care. Working in healthcare is a hard job, but most HC professionals do it because they have a passion for making a difference and for helping people. I’m sure Sofia left an imprint that will never be forgotten by them.
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