Tag Archive for: hope

Honouring Terry Fox September 15

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Raised in British Columbia, Terry Fox was an active teenager who participated in many sports. In 1977, at 18 years old, Terry was diagnosed with Osteogenic Sarcoma (bone cancer) and his right leg was amputated six inches above the knee. In the hospital, Terry was overcome by the plight of other cancer patients and decided to run across Canada to raise money for cancer research. Terry said, “Somewhere the hurting must stop,” and called his journey the Marathon of Hope.

Terry began at St. John’s, Newfoundland to run across this great country on his artificial leg – with courage, determination and hopefulness. He would have made it to the other coast if the cancer had not returned. For 143 days, the cross-Canada Marathon of Hope gained momentum, ultimately raising over $24 million that year. Since Terry’s death in 1981, his cancer research legacy has raised over $850 million and 1,300 projects have been funded in his name.

Terry’s is honoured every September by ordinary Canadians and people around the world who participate in the Terry Fox Run. On run day, people walk, run, jog, ride, skateboard, hop, or even skip and jump along a 10 km route. Donors and participants alike know why they do this. Terry, it turned out, left a legacy of hope for everyone, everywhere.

When Terry’s mother, visited the Terry Fox Park in Cochrane in the early 1990s, she lovingly declared that Terry was no hero. Betty Fox said he was just an ordinary boy who wanted to make a difference.
I find it inspiring that often the most ordinary people among us are the ones who change the world. However you may define “changing the world,” don’t ever count yourself out as one of those people.

Heroes, Hope, and The Human Experience

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You’ll never see a designer label on a hospital gown: Heroes, Hope, and The Human Experience.

Hospitals are strange places. Most of us are born in one. Many of us die in one. And in between, we may go there to spend the worst days of our lives.

Hospitals are the great levelers. No one knows – or even cares – what type of vehicle brought you there. There’s no designer label on a hospital gown. We’re stripped of our masks and facades, with nothing to hide behind, and you come face-to-face with your essential humanity.

The workers are dedicated to their jobs, doing their part to make the big human factory function as best it can. Everyone wants you out of there as soon as possible so they can make room for the next patient.

Caring isn’t on anyone’s job description but no matter where you go in the massive system, you find the heroes that care.

You’ll find Mary on Unit 83 who held my hand during the bleakest night who gently reassured me, “The third day after surgery is always the worst. It’ll pass by the morning.”

Or Pam, in radiology, who took the time took the time to sit and listen to me for ¾ of an hour while we waited for the radiologist.

Then there was the night I inadvertently pulled out a drainage tube and the nurse on duty seemed annoyed and irritated. When I commented, “It sounds like you’ve had a long night,” she responded apologetically. “I’m at the end of a double shift. We are short staffed and I’ve been here for almost sixteen hours.”

It was at that moment that I realized that these professionals would never abandon a patient. They truly are dedicated and caring human beings that we need to appreciate and celebrate.