I spent the better part of my childhood in hospital. My longest stint was nine months - eight months of which was in the intensive care unit on full life support after suffering heart failure and subsequently waiting for a heart transplant. I was 11 years old.
The nurses who looked after me throughout this time were not just my primary care givers, but my friends, confidants and family.
They were by my side at all hours of the day and night. They gave me my hourly medication, they monitored my life support machines and my vitals, they bathed me, watched me and reacted when my condition changed. But, Mandy and Debbie would also take it in turns to hold my hand all night, under the warm heated blanket when my parents had gone home for some rest.
