needs: Hospital and gratitude
She makes origami. She makes origami because it is small, it is quiet, it is hard for the brain and it is who she is. She makes origami because she has always wanted to say thank you in a meaningful way. She makes origami for the lady who brings in her meal tray. She makes origami for the orderly who takes her to her EEG. She makes origami for all the doctors at Rounds, for the ones that have the answers and the ones that don’t. She makes origami for the nurses. She makes origami for the mum who is crying. She makes origami for the kid next door that is alone. She makes origami for the phlebotomist who took her blood and never gave it back. She makes origami for the radiographer who places her in an MRI but stands on the other side of the glass, and she makes origami for the hospital teachers that hook up an iPad when she cannot move at all. She makes origami for the man who mops her bathroom that she can’t get to and for the physio that makes her cry. She makes origami to say thank you. And over the days, as I move through the hospital, I see her cranes on desks, trolleys and clipboards. Dashes of lovely from my girl to the world. She makes origami and it leaves her mark everywhere.
means: showing gratitude is part of healing for her
Saying thank you in hospital is easy. They have a form and everyone has a name tag.
She collects the names; I collect the forms and we fill them out in the long hours of waiting.
The origami is her own way of being a kid, its her way of painting the world a colour not shaded by illness and injury. If you want to make origami, YouTube is your friend.
