Some people are hard to forget. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for Paul Crittenden. I met Paul when he put in a PICC line for my first admission. I left with long-term antibiotics. After being discharged, I began having a terrible reaction. I had started to hallucinate and was brought back to the hospital. When I returned to the hospital, Paul came to see me. He recognized what was happening medically but did not know much about the rest of my care. I had been told my insurance was going to run out, I had other things going on in my life, and I honestly thought I was dying. I had refused all care and they had called an ambulance to take me to hospice. Paul saw something in me that was worth seeing and he convinced me to keep going. Paul told me that I was his number one patient and that I should keep calling him. I did start calling him to the unit, but I knew I couldn't take his time away from the rest of the patients -- it would be selfish to take all his time. But Paul's belief in me led to being where I am today. I've done everything the staff has encouraged me to do because I promised Paul I would. I don't remember how long it's been since I was able to laugh -- I wasn't laughing when I met Paul the second time. I couldn't come up with a single joke, and now I can. Let's face it, I am a bit of a clown. Paul came to see me multiple times and he never gave up on me. It's a good thing he didn't because I didn't.