the ambulance waiting downstairs to take me to Greenoaks. As they wheeled me through the outside double doors at the ground level, a slight rush of beautiful, sweet-smelling, outdoor air tickled my nostrils and the bright sunlight was everywhere.
“Oh, wow! Wait just a minute, please,” I asked the two orderlies. “Do you smell that air?” I said excitedly.
“Polluted!” snorted one of the guys good-naturedly.
“Oh, it’s beautiful!” I breathed deeply of its rich and, to me, heady fragrance.
“Hey, you’re gonna get high on oxygen,” teased one of the men. They eased my stretcher into the ambulance, shut the doors, and we began the drive to Greenoaks.
I couldn’t help contrasting this ambulance drive with my last one. Then the trees had been green, the grass and flowers lush and gorgeous. The air had been hot and humid, the people dressed in summer clothes.
Today, the air was crisp and cool. The stores were decorated for Halloween and fall sales. The trees were gold, red, and orange—the landscape reflected the full variety of autumn colors and textures.
An entire season had passed by while I was in the hospital! It was a strange feeling, but it did not stay to disturb me. The excitement and beauty of the ride was much too thrilling to waste worrying about a lost summer. I let the warm sun bathe my face through the window, and the driver kept his window rolled down so the fresh air could come in and sweep over me. It was such a pleasurable experience that I almost cried with joy.
As we approached Greenoaks, I became even more excited. Greenoaks. Even the name had a pleasant ring to it. In my mind I pictured a big, colonial structure with tall, white pillars overlooking sweeping green lawns shaded by huge green oak trees.
When we pulled into the driveway, however, I could see that it looked nothing like this. It was a sprawling, low brick building, more like an industrial park, office complex, or factory.
“Well, here we are,” said the driver.
“Yeah,” I said slowly.
“Anything wrong?”
“Uh—no. I guess not,” I said sheepishly. “I suppose any place you build up in your mind doesn’t live up to your expectations. Y’know?”
He nodded, then added, “Don’t worry—they do good work here. I think you’ll like it. Quite a few girls your age here. You should hit it off swell.”
“I hope so,” I replied apprehensively. As he wheeled me down the corridor to my assigned ward, I looked around and into open doors of various rooms. It was quiet, like the hospital. No one was “cured”— walking.
I saw people slouched in wheelchairs, encased in Stryker frames, or lying in beds. The halls seemed dark and depressing, with people lined up in wheelchairs. It was an old institution, badly in need of decorating.
By the time we got to my room, I was discouraged.
Mom and dad were there to meet me. They had signed me in and cared for the billing details and other business. They tried to cheer me up, but as soon as I was as comfortable as possible, they excused themselves. I had seen this reaction before—at City Hospital when they were told of the permanence of my injury. I knew they were again on the verge of breaking down and didn’t want me to see their tears and disappointment. They left, promising, “We’ll be back as soon as possible, darling.”
I looked around at my room when they left. Four other girls shared the small ward with me. I decided to introduce myself. “Hi. I’m Joni Eareckson,” I began.
“Joni Eareckson!” I heard my name repeated contemptuously, followed by a string of obscenities. “That’s all I heard at City Hospital—Joni this, Joni that. I could puke!”
Stunned by the bitter voice, I recovered enough to smile and say, “Oh, I didn’t know I had a fan club here.”
The ice was broken. The others laughed. “You’ll have to excuse Ann,” explained one girl. “She’s new here too. She came to City Hospital after you, and I guess she wasn’t
“Oh, wow! Wait just a minute, please,” I asked the two orderlies. “Do you smell that air?” I said excitedly.
“Polluted!” snorted one of the guys good-naturedly.
“Oh, it’s beautiful!” I breathed deeply of its rich and, to me, heady fragrance.
“Hey, you’re gonna get high on oxygen,” teased one of the men. They eased my stretcher into the ambulance, shut the doors, and we began the drive to Greenoaks.
I couldn’t help contrasting this ambulance drive with my last one. Then the trees had been green, the grass and flowers lush and gorgeous. The air had been hot and humid, the people dressed in summer clothes.
Today, the air was crisp and cool. The stores were decorated for Halloween and fall sales. The trees were gold, red, and orange—the landscape reflected the full variety of autumn colors and textures.
An entire season had passed by while I was in the hospital! It was a strange feeling, but it did not stay to disturb me. The excitement and beauty of the ride was much too thrilling to waste worrying about a lost summer. I let the warm sun bathe my face through the window, and the driver kept his window rolled down so the fresh air could come in and sweep over me. It was such a pleasurable experience that I almost cried with joy.
As we approached Greenoaks, I became even more excited. Greenoaks. Even the name had a pleasant ring to it. In my mind I pictured a big, colonial structure with tall, white pillars overlooking sweeping green lawns shaded by huge green oak trees.
When we pulled into the driveway, however, I could see that it looked nothing like this. It was a sprawling, low brick building, more like an industrial park, office complex, or factory.
“Well, here we are,” said the driver.
“Yeah,” I said slowly.
“Anything wrong?”
“Uh—no. I guess not,” I said sheepishly. “I suppose any place you build up in your mind doesn’t live up to your expectations. Y’know?”
He nodded, then added, “Don’t worry—they do good work here. I think you’ll like it. Quite a few girls your age here. You should hit it off swell.”
“I hope so,” I replied apprehensively. As he wheeled me down the corridor to my assigned ward, I looked around and into open doors of various rooms. It was quiet, like the hospital. No one was “cured”— walking.
I saw people slouched in wheelchairs, encased in Stryker frames, or lying in beds. The halls seemed dark and depressing, with people lined up in wheelchairs. It was an old institution, badly in need of decorating.
By the time we got to my room, I was discouraged.
Mom and dad were there to meet me. They had signed me in and cared for the billing details and other business. They tried to cheer me up, but as soon as I was as comfortable as possible, they excused themselves. I had seen this reaction before—at City Hospital when they were told of the permanence of my injury. I knew they were again on the verge of breaking down and didn’t want me to see their tears and disappointment. They left, promising, “We’ll be back as soon as possible, darling.”
I looked around at my room when they left. Four other girls shared the small ward with me. I decided to introduce myself. “Hi. I’m Joni Eareckson,” I began.
“Joni Eareckson!” I heard my name repeated contemptuously, followed by a string of obscenities. “That’s all I heard at City Hospital—Joni this, Joni that. I could puke!”
Stunned by the bitter voice, I recovered enough to smile and say, “Oh, I didn’t know I had a fan club here.”
The ice was broken. The others laughed. “You’ll have to excuse Ann,” explained one girl. “She’s new here too. She came to City Hospital after you, and I guess she wasn’t
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