New Year's Eve 2018-2019.
I was a patient at the JGH - 8NW. There was a woman sharing the double room at the time. Her man friend was constantly with her. Although she was a cancer patient and appeared frail, her friend took her out of the hospital regularly to his home and to a Vietnamese restaurant - even in the middle of bitter winter evenings.
She said she didn't like hospital food and complained all the time about her shampoo versus hair conditioner. He chased down doctors in the hall and demanded more and more explanations about her medical procedures and treatments.
They talked constantly about El Salvador, Israel, Manhattan, Miami - although he was a taxi driver by trade. How do you afford such travels on a taxi driver's income?
On New Year's Eve, I left my bed to use the washroom which was located just a few feet from my bed. I left my purse leaning against the inside rail of my bed nearest to the other patient's bed - a distance of two arms' lengths, divided only by a curtain.
I returned to my bed in a few minutes. The only people in the room throughout this time were the couple I just mentioned.
In a few moments, I reached for my purse and my heart sank. I was afraid to look.
I'd had $140. all in $20. bills.
My fear was justified. When I returned from the washroom, one of the zippers on my black bag was open.
Five of the $20. bills were gone.
I reported it to the nurses right away. I made a formal, written complaint in the morning. I thought it was to the Montreal Police but I was told it was to JGH Security. Joni of the hospital's social service department provided me with a photo copy.
The incident troubled me for obvious reasons, but more than that: I kept asking myself if there was any possibility that I was mistaken. I saw no one else. I had no visitors. I went nowhere. I bought nothing. I waited to come home and check before publishing this.
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