Eighteen Years Earlier
The 5th floor Children’s Ward—Cancer Unit was a place no one wished existed. It was bad enough that the disease ravaged the bodies of adults. To see children fighting and losing the battle to this most tragic of diseases was almost unbearable.
There were twenty-four children in the ward, ranging in age from five to ten — all so young. Too young, in fact, to be snatched away from loving families.
The most anticipated time of the day was when the hospital mascot, Jock, the little Scottish Terrier, came for a visit. He would spend an hour with the children, licking hands — who cares about a few dog germs when you’re dying? — begging on his hind legs, shaking hands, speaking when asked to, and allowing the children to lavish him with loving. Not once did he play dead.
