Whenever I work in hospitals, I have a few ironclad rules that may not make total sense to outside observers. They’re all things like:

“Always be on the patient’s side both figuratively and literally.”
“Never take off your shoes during overnight on-call.”
“Never wish someone a quiet day or a smooth day, lest you jinx it.”
“Always spend as much time talking to hospital staff as to patients. Staff feel the loss too.”

But one rule has been standing out to me lately:
“Always thank the kid in the ICU.”

It may not always be the ICU, but somewhere in the hospital, at any given time, there is at least one child or young teenager visiting a relative with his/her family, and this kid is confused, scared, bored, and probably a little hungry. No matter who’s in the hospital bed —a parent, a grandparent, a sibling, a friend—, the child who’s come to visit is feeling a whole lot of things. I know because I’ve been the kid in the ICU.

For a little over a year, when I was six years old, my sister was in the hospital (frequently in the ICU), and I still vaguely remember camping out in waiting rooms. Because this happened in an era before every room in America was equipped with a flatscreen TV, my entertainment consisted of staring at vending machines, hoarding blankets, drawing on any type of paper I could get my hands on, and annoying my older brother. I remember my parents sometimes giving me a choice of whether I wanted to go to the hospital or stay home with a babysitter, and “hospital” was always the tougher option. While it really wasn’t the place for a kid, my family was there, and I tried to be too.

Serving in hospitals, I’ve encountered quite a few kids in the ICU, so remembering what that was like, I always make a point of thanking them. “Hey, I know it’s hard to be here, so thank you for being here with your family.” That’s all it takes for these kids to feel noticed and appreciated even while their families may be dealing with earth-shattering crises. So if you ever find yourself in a situation where a family’s world is falling apart —maybe even your family’s world is falling apart— take a moment to look around, notice the kids in the ICU, and say thank you. That simple gesture may change a child’s life.