Untitled Journal entry by Lisa Rossignol — Mar 22, 2008 We are in Cleveland....never thought life would take us here. What a gift it has been, though. The Ronald McDonald's House is a large, beatiful building that has offered us a large, clean room for four for a measly $20/night. The other hotels near the hospital run $72-$225/night. Different community groups come in each night and cook all of the families dinner. It is usually pretty yummy but no green chili here. We have been here one week and it really doesn't feel that way. When we stepped off of the plane, we stepped into an alternate, fuzzy universe where nothing makes sense-nothing sticks. It is a nice sort of mental holiday. The first few days got to me because Lily was so unhappy having all the EEG leads glued to her head that she just cried and cried. Also, this is a hard culture. You know that everyone in this house has a really sick baby and during meals everyone makes ro...
Nineteen was a dangerous age for Jen; more vulnerable than infant, toddler or adolescent. She was not a child and not an adult. Jen lacked the caution that can come with youth and also the wisdom of age and experience . She took chances that she thought she was prepared for but was not emotionally and psychologically ready. Jen was a sophomore in college in a southwestern university. She lived in the dorms, completely supported by a scholarship and her parents. She had fallen into a group of friends who were smart, physically beautiful, and slightly more financially well-off than she was. The thing they all had in common was a need to party. The group of 15 friends got together at least four times a week to drink and talk. The group was inclined to spontaneous road trips that usually involved late night, drunken resolutions to climb mountains and skinny dip in the various hot springs that peppered the mountainous region. Several of th...