WARNING FOR CHILD DEATH.
The nurse slumps in a chair set in the corner of the room, sobs racking her body. Yet another small body lies cold and inert on the table nearby. They have spent days tending him, only for his little heart to repeatedly stop, for blood to ooze from his eyes and mouth. Not a single doctor can understand why. Time after time the ward fought to resuscitate him, the baby's heart had given out. The nurse who cared for him is inconsolable. In a few minutes, she will carry the tiny body down to the morgue, but for now she sits here, and she weeps.
A young doctor comes and puts an arm around her. The nurse looks up, her eyes red and filled with tears. Between sobs, she asks, “Why do babies always die when I'm around?”
This is the story of Genene Jones.
WARNING FOR CHILD DEATH.
The nurse slumps in a chair set in the corner of the room, sobs racking her body. Yet another small body lies cold and inert on the table nearby. They have spent days tending him, only for his little heart to repeatedly stop, for blood to ooze from his eyes and mouth. Not a single doctor can understand why. Time after time the ward fought to resuscitate him, the baby's heart had given out. The nurse who cared for him is inconsolable. In a few minutes, she will carry the tiny body down to the morgue, but for now she sits here, and she weeps.
A young doctor comes and puts an arm around her. The nurse looks up, her eyes red and filled with tears. Between sobs, she asks, “Why do babies always die when I'm around?”
This is the story of Genene Jones.