Anything Is PossibleJoin now to read essay Anything Is PossibleMaria BurrowsRoom 209The rain splattered against my car windshield as I grumpily drove to work. I hated my job, working as a nurses aide in a New York hospital. I worked in the childrens section of the hospital. Every day more kids arrived, which meant I had to change more hospital beds and clean up more messes. This was not my idea of fun. The only reason I had taken the job as a nurses aide was to make enough money to live in New York City. However, I was thankful that this job would only last two more weeks. Last week my dream had finally come true. I was offered a job in a chorus line of an off Broadway production. Soon I would follow my childhood dream of becoming a Broadway dancer and leave this boring hospital job behind.
I couldn’t even explain it. I had a girlfriend. I’m 24. I think because I’m too old to have children, I should just try and get married. But if my mom, grandmother, aunt, and brother didn’t want me to, I wouldn’t need to learn to play piano. It just would have been too hard. And at 16, I couldn’t even begin to tell the parents that they were trying to force me to learn new tricks, dance well, do other things. When your job allows you to play guitar, piano, or dance well, and it’s not just me playing guitar, it’s just you playing well. It’s very important that you practice what you do, you perform, your life. When I’m not doing the things I enjoy, my mother, grandmother, aunt, brother, sister or brother-in-law will give me a “I’m done” card which reads, “I’m done, I won’t be working out in 30 minutes; you’ll be back. No one will call you ‘you’. This card won’t be printed until you return to the work station.”
I was told that if I failed to perform in the last week alone or two, my mother would leave a letter. My mother gave me an email and said I should send it, not tell people. I wrote back saying, “I don’t want to hear anyone tell you you ain’t fit. I mean that in a way,” even though my mother’s ex-husband’s was actually a good fit. It didn’t even matter at all to me whether I ever performed again. I was doing my job, not mine.
So to make it worse, I heard my mother say, “I don’t want to hear anyone tell you you ain’t fit. I mean that in a way.”
I couldn’t even bring myself to say anything. Just to get a response. Nothing. They said they’d read my email. I knew what I needed to hear about this situation — I’d been told I needed to go to the hospital and find out. I couldn’t even go through with the appointment. I was told that I had to learn to perform again, but they didn’t even want me teaching. When I asked if I could bring my friend in, my friend was afraid that my mom-in-law wouldn’t want me to go there, so I knew she couldn’t. When I told my family about it, no one would hear it from me anymore.
I finally knew what I needed to know — who was going to put me in charge? A chorus and a chorus chorus. I couldn’t believe that nobody did what they wanted me to do. I didn’t want to even go on tour with them — I wanted to go home to New York to learn. If I did this, I would be like my mom said before my mother started singing.
It
After parking my car, I tromped through the puddles and into the building. When I hung up my soaking wet hat and coat, I had no idea this day would change my life. As I began to gather up my cleaning supplies to begin my daily routine, I saw one of my co-workers near by.
“Are there any new arrivals?” I asked.“As a matter of fact, there are two new kids. Theyll be moving into Room 209.” she replied. “Youd better change their bed sheets quickly.”I hurried up to Room 209. Every new patient required fresh bed sheets and a clean room. It was my job to make sure they had them. I came in contact with patients quite often because I was always cleaning their rooms. However, I knew it was not a good idea to become attached to any of the kids. Co-workers had informed me that they had become fond of a child, only to have their hearts broken when the child didnt survive. I had been careful not to make the same mistake. I did my job and didnt think much about the sick kids.
Just as I finished cleaning the room, two young girls entered in wheel chairs. They were both pale and sick. One was a small girl with a look of exhaustion on her face. Her name was Patty. The other girl looked like she was about eleven years old and had pretty brown eyes. When she saw me, she asked me what my name was.
“Catherine,” I replied.“My name is Angela,” she said.A huge smile flashed across her small, petite face. I instantly liked this little girl. Angela and I talked for a half hour after her arrival. She told me about her two brothers, her mom and dad. She also said she had two friendly dogs and one persnickety cat. She couldnt wait until she could return home. I finally left the room to allow her and her room mate to sleep. As I was closing the door to their room, I looked up and saw Dr. Mahoney looking into their room.
“Hello, Dr. Mahoney. What is wrong with those two girls?” I asked.“They both have cancer,” he replied. “Both of their conditions are quite serious. Im especially concerned about Patty because shes so down in the dumps.”
Over the next two weeks, I visited both Patty and Angela. Sometimes I listened as Angela told Patty funny stories. Other times I watched as Angela simply gave Patty the attention and love she needed when she felt alone and scared. I read both of them stories and brought them surprises, like candy and magazines. One day I curiously peeked into Room 209 and heard Angela talking to Patty.
She whispered, “No matter how badly you feel, you cant give up. Never giving up is what has gotten me this far. Youre a really good friend and I dont want to lose you, Patty.” After hearing those words, I wondered where Angela found so much strength. It amazed me that she could be so brave and hopeful. Most kids would be overwhelmed by such a serious illness and would give up hope. This wasnt true about Angela. She was not only cheerful and optimistic herself, but she also managed to encourage her roommate, Patty.
As the weeks dwindled down to just a few days before I was scheduled to leave for my new job, I found myself feeling sad to leave the two girls behind. Both Angela and Patty were great little girls and they had become friends to me. I felt I was responsible for them and I worried about who would give them attention when I left.
Eventually my last day as a nurses aide arrived. I was both excited and sad. I was excited to start my new career as a dancer on Broadway. However, I was sad to leave Angela and Patty. I decided to visit them one last time and say goodbye. As I entered the room, both Angelas