She made especially sure to be there, those two or three times a year, when all her medical know-how failed her and the patient was dying. Some kids were just too sick.
She would stay with them until the end.
That was respectful. To let parents know that she was there, bearing witness. It was the least she could do.
Sometimes, you had to make the best death.
Rand had two young children of her own. Still, she could not imagine the pain of losing a child, even as she stood next to those who did.
Every once in a while, years later, parents would call her. They just wanted to talk to someone who remembered and who was safe. Someone who would not think they were depressed or wallowing in old grief.
Someone to share a memory because they were thinking about their child that day.
Rand filled that role, too. She wanted to do something for those families even though she hadn't been able to save their children.
But she wasn't going there with Nadia.
This little girl was going to be OK.
The trick was in the meds.
Plenty to worry about
After the transplant, Allison stayed home with the new baby while Joe watched over Nadia at CHOP.
The transplant had transformed her. She wasn't yellow. Her belly was firm, not distended by built-up fluid.
But there was still plenty to worry about.
Nadia was now 17 months, but she had yet to crawl, walk, or utter her first words.
Her parents wondered if she would develop normally. Would she catch up to her peers? Would she have a full life? Would she ever be healthy?
It seemed like forever, but Nadia was finally deemed well enough for discharge.
On May 2, nearly a month after her transplant, Allison and Joe took Nadia home.
Dr. Rand returns
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