Swim lessons = life lessons

(The community center where I work with new immigrants is pictured above on a freezing rainy day!)

I thought volunteering on the pediatric oncology floor was emotionally challenging, and it is. But today I stepped out of my comfort zone a bit further and experienced more heartache than I have in a good while.

This morning I went to teach swim lessons at the Leo Beck Community Center, where I teach twice a week to children or considered both “regular” and “special”. On Tuesdays some of our classes have “special” children with relatively mild physical or mental handicaps. Thursday mornings, apparently, are reserved for children with extreme debilitative disorders. Most of these children cannot speak, move on their own, or communicate for that matter.

This morning I held Ronnie, a nine year old boy the size of a one year old baby, whose legs and arms are essentially permanently tucked into fetal position, ribs are deformed and jut out of his tiny torso, and (according to the teacher) might not live much longer. The hour dedicated to these children is considered hydrotherapy. For example, the goal with Ronnie is to try to help him have any movement in his legs and arms. I was horrified to snap a little limb of his and sick to my stomach with fear holding such a life in my arms. On occasion he seemingly used all the strength he could muster to bend his head down peering straight down into the water. Other times, the closest thing I sensed in the vein of communication, he completely relaxed his neck resting the back of his head on my arm as I circled the pool carrying him along on his beck.

The terrifying climax occurred when a more mobile girl, Hadar, jumped and splashed us which I guess caused Ronnie to swallow a tad of water. I have never seen such a violent attempt at heaving. His tiny little body flexed and his arms even extended by his own volition. It is amazing how the body responds and expelled the water from his system before he relaxed and floated along some more.

I was so far out of my comfort zone and spent most of the time thinking about what the families of these children must experience. All the time, love, emotions, struggles, doctor’s appointments, special care etc… What must it be like? It almost kept me from realizing that spending one hour in the water might very well be the highlight of many of these children’s day. This morning presented me with many theological, philosophical, medical and ethical questions. Not questions I feel like exploring in a public forum, but surely one could imagine what they might be. I do not know how politically correct my words and thoughts above are, so please do not be offended...