*names have been changed for privacy*
The first day I walked into the hospital, I wasn’t prepared mentally. I was told some of the kids wouldn’t be happy and smiling or have a lot of energy. I set my lights and back drop up in the lounge and waited for the first child to come in. “We are starting in transplant today.” I was told. OK. Not sure what that was, but how hard can going to a room be? I was instructed to put on “scrubs” and a face mask. “You’ll have to use the window light. Will you be OK with that?” She asked. “Sure, I am used to shooting in different light all the time”. I said. “How old is she?” “Three”.
Walking in, I saw the Mother get up off the couch that sat in front of a window that had gigantic colorful flowers painted on it. Glancing around the room, I saw photos from months before at Disney. Photos when she had hair and the most beautiful smile.
“Elizabeth isn’t felling too well today, but we want to do this” the mother said. “Sweetie, they are here to take your picture” “No! No, no more!” Elizabeth cried and hugged her mom.
I was confused for a second and then heard her mother say” Not more tests honey, she is here to take pictures with her camera” Elizabeth thought she was having more painful tests because to help her get treatment, they tell her it is pictures and the masks made her think we were nurses to take her again.
She was so frail. So tiny. I tried not to cry. The mask was making it difficult to breathe, but acted as a shield so no one could see my pain. My heart was wrenching, thinking that my son is her age as well. It was the hardest 5 minutes of my life.
Her mother sat back on the couch with her in front of the window and she rested her head. “Are you sure you want to do this today? I can come back another time” I said. “Elizabeth, do you want to do this?” “Yes.” She said. She forced a smile while a tear streamed down her face. I shot quickly and waited for the moments. “OK, sweetie, I am done. You go rest.” I walked out of the room and took off my “scrubs” and mask and wondered how can I keep going?
“We have to go into another transplant room.” What? I have to pull it together fast. More “scrubs” and another mask. “How old?” “22 months.” My heart sank.
I will get through this, I will get through this…. We knock. The door opens and there like a burst of sunshine is Daniel. He is running around the room and wanting to play hide and seek with Grandma. I teared up again because I was so happy he was going to be alright. We played, he snuggled with his mom and then went to the cabinet where he knew his favorite snacks were. I thanked them and said my goodbyes.
We headed back to the lounge after that and one by one, more kids and their families came in to have their portraits taken. Each child had a form of cancer or some other life threatening disease. I never asked, or even treated them as though something was wrong. I think it helped them get away from all the sick talk, even if it was for a short time.
The organization I am proud to be a part of is called Flashes Of Hope. It is a non profit organization that provides children and their families, portraits free of charge.
This has been a life changing experience for me and those who have come along to help me. These were amazing moments that I was able to document. Images that these families will treasure forever. For more information and how you can help please go to Flashes of Hope
