The Horrors of Being in a Hospital

I lived on Keating Drive when I was four and six years old. The year between we moved to Boynton Beach. Mom was a nurse and had herniated her neck, lifting a patient I think, and was having difficulty finding work so we moved to Boynton Beach. Before we moved she had met Rene, my future step-father. A person that I would grow to dislike very immensely over the years.

When we were in Boynton I started kindergarten. The only thing I remember about Boynton was careening down a hill on roller skates (apparently I survived) and graduating from kindergarten. I remember that vividly because I wore a white cap and gown. It was quite the ceremony. That was also the year that Kennedy was assassinated but I don't remember anything about that. I guess at five you just don't notice how parents are reacting around you.

I thought for years that mom "married" Rene when were in Boynton. They were going to a wedding or something like that and mom was dressed up in a cream suit with a nice matching hat. Somehow I thought going to a wedding was the same as getting married. So until I was in my early 20s I thought they married in 1963. What I didn't know was that my dad would not give my mother a divorce until 1968 when he met my future step-mother Lena. I discovered the truth when I was helping mom with her citizenship papers and saw her wedding certificate. Mom was a bit chagrined when I called her on it. Which makes me think that they did tell everyone that they eloped. A lot of hints though fell into place. I remember I asked her once why she was called Mrs. Durnford at work and she gave me this cock and bull story that it was a hassle to change her nursing license. But at 9 years old I bought it. I guess they figured since dad was in another country and no one in Florida knew her past they could act like a married couple and no one would know. Pretty risky for 1963!

In 1964 we moved back to the house on Keating Drive. Mom's neck was better after surgery and she was able to find work. That was the year my world fell apart.

When I was 6 1/2 I started having strange medical issues. My temperature would shoot up to dangerous levels for no reason. Mom would take me to the doctor and they treated her like a hysterical mother, not the nurse that she was. Doctors were so sexist towards nurses in those days. This went on for months. I don't remember too many of the details but at one point I was delirious from high temperatures and thought there were snakes slithering up the wall. To this day I'm terrified of snakes.

Then one day mom noticed I was limping and asked me why? I replied innocently that is was because of the "bumps." I was at the age where I could dress and bathe myself so mom hadn't seen me naked for some time. She look at my groin area and there were these three large hard bumps on my upper left thigh. I was booked into the hospital right away.

To be a child in a hospital in those days was a horrid place to be. The doctors and nurses did not explain anything to kids so I was terrified all the time. I was in a Catholic hospital and even thought they were nice to me, the nuns in their long, black habits were scary to a kid who had never seen a one before.

The first few weeks I was in isolation because no one knew what was wrong with me. At one point they thought I may have a contagious disease and then they thought I had leukemia. My sister was in Canada and flew down because everyone thought I wasn't going to make it. She told me years later she overheard the doctors mention leukemia and didn't know what it was. She looked it up and read that it was an incurable cancer (at the time). That must have been an agonizing time for her because we were, and still are, so close.

This was the type of horror I went through. The doctors decided to biopsy the bumps. Well, they weren't solid bumps as everyone thought (no ultrasound in those days) and when they cut into them all hell broke loose. This is gross, but blood and puss sprayed everyone like a volcano. They were all panicking and I was screaming my lungs off. No one had thought to give me any type of sedative so I was quite awake and terrified out of my mind. To make matters worse, even though she was a nurse, they wouldn't let my mother in the room so I very much alone among all these strangers all covered up in surgical gear.

For the next few weeks I had these 3 gaping holes in my upper thigh while all the poison drained out of my leg. They figured I had blood poisoning in my leg from a cat scratch or mosquito bite. (I really grew to hate that song Cat Scratch Fever when it came out.) Every day when they changed the bandages they had to clean the tape off the raw skin with alcohol and I would scream my head off. Now they have tape that doesn't stick to the skin and leave a residue. Mom said it was the most horrid thing for a mother to go through as she could hear me scream from all the way down the hall. Again, they wouldn't let her in the room when this was happening.

I spent my seventh birthday in the hospital with family around me in gowns and masks. I also had to learn how to walk again since I was bedridden for so long. I remember one night I had to go to the bathroom and there was a woman outside the hall mopping the floor. I called to her that I need to get up (there were no call buttons in those days). She either ignored me or didn't hear me so I tried to get out of bed myself and fell. Somehow I half crawled to the bathroom and back. All in all it was a horrid experience and I had nightmares about it well into my early teens.

I'm glad that doctors and nurses explain more to children when they're in the hospital now, not like in my day.

Keating Drive 1962

When I was four years old we lived in a subdivision called Town Hall Homes in Palm Beach Gardens, Florida on a street called Keating Drive. Town Hall Homes was way out in the boonies; it was one of the first neighbourhoods created from reclaimed swampland. There were canals between the houses and urban rumor was that they were gator infested.

I find it funny that I can’t remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday but I can remember living on Keating Drive in the early 60s. The only place to hang out was a convenience store at the top of the street. For some strange reason, we had a police station at the top of the street with one police officer working there. It’s not like the neighbourhood was a hotbed of teenage gangland. During a hurricane, a big tree fell on the station to the joy of all the local teenagers. I’m not sure if this is an accurate memory, but it swear his name was Bubba and he was a rather large person. I may be channeling the sheriff from Smokey and the Bandit.

Once, my sister had a party while mom was at work and he showed up at the house to break up the party. I was supposed to be spending the night next door, but I snuck over and was partying with the big kids when the cops came. I was dancing to a song called Mash Potato! Mom was not happy, especially when she saw the cool-aid on the ceiling. Can’t remember how long my sister was grounded for that one.

It was a fun place to grow up for a four year old, you could play on the street and run wild because there was nothing else but suburbia. It probably wasn’t as fun for my teenage sister, no stores, everyone knowing your business, and the beach too far away. I used to run around with my neighbour, Cindy Miles. All my life I’ve had friends with the same name as me and they were all blondes…how strange.

There was this girl that lived at the top of the street who was only popular with the teenagers in the summer because she had a pool and absent parents. She was a bit of a sad case, she was home alone a lot because her mom was in a sanitarium and her father was a traveling salesman. I feel a little guilty that we only liked her because of her pool. Once my sister and I snuck out in the middle of the night and jumped in her pool. Apparently we weren’t as quiet as we thought and suddenly the lights came on in the house. We scrambled out of the pool but before running away away, my sister looked in the window and was spotted by the girl. We thought for sure that we were sunk. The next morning, out of curiosity, we walked past her house and the police officer was in her driveway asking her questions. Since no one turned around and yelled “that’s them!” we decided to walk over and ask what happened, and this is the story she told us:

I was soundly sleeping and was suddenly woken up by a loud crash from outside in patio. I looked out the window and this big black n----r was looking in at the same time. He was just on the other side of the glass, I was scared for my life! He was trying to get into the house, rattling the doors and banging on the window and then he suddenly ran away.

My sister and I just looked at each other and beat a hasty retreat, laughing all the way home. She doesn't even have dark hair!

I sure did like living on Keating Drive.

Me and Cindy Miles