A seriously ill child needs more than medical care alone. It also needs attention, distraction and moments when it can simply be a child. A personal story about Techero, his brother Melle and the responsibility we as a society bear for sick children and their families.

I came to the Netherlands to see my youngest grandson, who was born on August 12. But I also decided to visit two seriously ill young patients: Za’nyah and Kenisha. And of course I wanted to see Melle, who had lived at my home for several months.

Yesterday, Carmelita and I visited him because it was his birthday. Melle is now fourteen years old. How he has grown!

“What do you want to do?” we asked.

“Go out for dinner,” he said.

And that is what we did. Simply sitting together at the table, eating and catching up. It was so nice to see him again.

The memory of Techero

But when I see Melle, I always think of his little brother Techero too.

Techero was seven when I met him. A nurse was looking for a tablet for a seriously ill little boy who was lying in isolation. No television, no tablet and few visitors. Fortunately, through a group of acquaintances, I was able to get a tablet. Nice children’s films were put on it so that he would have some distraction.

When I visited him, that small, quiet boy touched me deeply.

I also got to know his brother Quin. He was only 21 and tried to care for his seriously ill little brother as best he could. Their mother had died that year. The father of Melle and Techero had also died.

There stood a young man with a responsibility far too heavy for him.

Concerns about medication and money

I offered my help and from then on accompanied him to talks with the doctor. During those conversations, I heard how Quin worried about the costs. Medication had to be bought that was not reimbursed.

I told him: “You are not going to worry about the finances. Let us do that, and you focus on your little brother.”

The doctor was pleased with that help. She too saw how much he carried on his shoulders.

We took over the costs of that medication.

Carmelita and I visited Techero and brought him treats. And Techero would say: “I’m saving some for Melle too.”

We saw Techero deteriorate further and further. Yet he never complained.

He stayed at our home with us for a few days and slept next to me. Later, when he was completely weakened, he often lay in my arms in hospital.

In the end, we had to let him go.

Thanks to the enormous support and donations, we were able to give Techero a beautiful and dignified funeral. I am still grateful to everyone who helped.

Melle had to be able to be a child again

Melle was ten at the time. Ten years old, no parents left and then losing your little brother as well. How is a child supposed to carry all that?

Melle came to live with me for a while. I tried to give him the space to simply be a child. We went swimming, out for dinner and to the cinema. I could not take away his grief. But I could be there for him and try to share pleasant moments with him too.

Later, he was able to live with his uncle in the Netherlands. He is well cared for there.

And yesterday he sat opposite me, fourteen years old. That did me good.

There must also be room for fun during illness

During my visits to Za’nyah and Kenisha in hospital, I thought of Techero again. I saw seriously ill children, but also how much was being done to make their days more pleasant. Musical instruments they are allowed to play, CliniClowns who visit, dance workshops and illustrators.

That does not make the illness disappear.

Nor the pain and worries. But between treatments, there is room to play, laugh and focus on something else for a while.

That is what I wish for our children in Suriname too.

A child lying in isolation needs more than a bed and medication. It needs attention, company and something to look forward to. A film, a game, music or someone who comes and sits quietly beside the bed. Small things can mean a great deal on such a long hospital day.

Who cares for the people around the sickbed?

And those caring for a sick child must be able to focus on that child. I still often think of Quin. Of his concerns about money while his little brother was so seriously ill.

How many parents and caregivers are in that same position today?

Who helps them when medication is not reimbursed? Who helps search when that medication cannot be found anywhere?

Who sees that they themselves can barely keep going?

That is a responsibility for the government, healthcare institutions and us as a society. Good care also requires support for the people around the sickbed and attention for the child behind the patient.