The tapestry of the life of a medically complex family

Archive for the ‘Special Needs’ Category

Just a job

Last night I got confirmation of my fear: the nurse who has been with us for 3+ years is leaving for a day job somewhere else. She needs benefits for her family so I can’t blame her but sometimes I forget that my children are “just a job” for so many people who come into their lives. How do I protect them, or me for that matter? People come into our home, they are caring, helpful, loving. My children quickly grow to love the good ones. They learn the schedules, routines. Each of my three little ones anticipates the arrival of their favorite(s), knowing which nurse comes after which shift. Then their favorite nurse leaves…

Today I am crying, moping, trying to keep my sh*t together. I have not told them. I have not warned them. I am trying to manage the stress of all else that is going on with the definitive loss of more than half my nursing shifts in little over a week. I will be moving from about 16 shifts/week back down to 7.  55 hours seems like a lot of time to have a person in your home helping you care for your kids… until you look at the fact that 28 of those hours are while the children are in bed, over 3 nights, the only 3 nights you can sleep- but not until after 11p since you have to be up to let the nurse in, to “report out” on the events of the day, to communicate relevant medical info. and be sure that treatments begun since their last shift will be continued overnight. Then you go to bed and toss and turn until you either manage to fall asleep about midnite or you go back downstairs at 1230/1 a.m. to get benadryl or headache meds to HELP you to fall asleep… until you awaken in a panic after 4 hours because your schedule the other 4 days is getting up to check on the kids and be sure their breathing tubes are in place, CPAP masks are on, respirations seem normal… or on nights when they are sick you spend most of the night up doing breathing treatments every 2 hours, across 3 beds, hoping to catch some  ZZZZZs in the 90 minutes in between.      3 1/2 years of this – averaging about 35 hours sleep/week on the best of weeks.

Then the day shifts, well they do the 8-35 breathing treatments that occur daily in your home (8 is the minimum with 4 for Trachboy and 2 each for the girls). The nurse checks respirations, heart & lung sounds, trach & gtube patency; provides sponge baths, trach care, trach tie changes, gtube care and chest PT; monitors respiratory changes during play and other activities and monitors for aspiration during meals or feedings. When there is no day shift all these tasks fall to me, on top of the upkeep of the house, scheduling and following up of medical care appointments, reading stories, playing games, ordering oxygen & medical supplies, and all other single mom roles. The new schedule will hold only 2 weekdays with day-time nursing coverage…

Most (lucky) children go through life with one or 2 caring adults in their home who love them and manage the day-to-day for them. These *parents* are stable persons, present throughout the child’s life, through ups and downs, sicknesses & well-times. Other adults are encountered outside the home and may be transitional, temporary. These adults may support the family but are distinctly separate from the “family” of home.

My children were born through cocaine-induced labors, grew weeks to months in hospital settings where caregivers changed on 8-12 hour rotations across a day, 10-20 caretakers/week. They then were separated from all they knew, moved to either a new hospital or to a foster home- a temporary place which held caring, yet still paid, persons who watched over them, with shifts of other paid professionals moving through to play with and help care for them. Each of my children “lost” these families, however unusual the circumstance, to come home to me, the woman they were *grown for*, their mother and one parent they will ever know… And yet each week, they come into contact with others in their home whom they love and cherish and include in their hearts as family. These people, our nurses, are transient as well. Something happens, the nurse’s life moves on: job opportunities, weddings, parenthood… and my children “lose” – again and again. To these men & women, although they are wonderful FABULOUS nurses, who usually also love my children, my children are “just a job”; a job without great health insurance, without room for advancement, a job that sometimes needs to be replaced with one that HAS these opportunities/benefits, one which might eventually benefit their career & lifestyle.

How do you look into the eyes of your 4 year olds and the eyes of your 3 year old and tell them they are “just a job”? While their hearts are breaking and they are again learning to distrust? It’s “just a job”…

Twins

In early March  2006, Trachgirl & Trachboy were born at 27 weeks gestation. Trachboy was born not breathing and without a heartbeat- he was immediately moved to a resuscitation room. Both were intubated and moved to the NICU. Trachgirl weighed just over 800 grams (1pound 12 ounces) and Trachboy weighed just 1000 grams (2.2 pounds). Both children tested positive for cocaine, as did their biological mother. They were immediately taken into custody by state social services.

Over the next 3 months, Trachgirl & Trachboy struggled for their lives as they were fed through nGtubes and hooked up to monitors and ventilators. Trachboy was trached first and was able to go home to a foster home in late June 2006.

Trachgirl was not trached right away. She regularly pulled out her breathing and feeding tubes and it took a lot of supervision to keep her safe. After her time in the NICU, she was moved to a pediatric rehab hospital and her level of airway obstruction was checked. The ENT doing the procedure found an almost completely blocked airway and placed a trach for her as well. After many weeks, Trachgirl was able to go to the same foster home as Trachboy- they were together again.

Both kids were fed through NGtubes, had significant respiratory issues and had many other challenges to overcome. They were legally free soon after going to their foster home and waited in foster care to find their family. Over the first year, they suffered setbacks and hospitalizations but kept up their fight to live and thrive. I saw their cherubic faces, with trach tubes nestled under their chins, on a state photolisting page, and foolishly (& thankfully) thought “these are my children!”. I found out that the state agencies agreed with me and met them just after their first birthday.

Trachgirl was the shy one, leery of new people, remembering the hospitals, the doctors, the people who come in and out of her life; she kept a safe distance during our first meeting. She warmed up later in the visit and played peek-a-boo in my arms on their nursery floor. Trachboy, less aware of a reason to be fearful, lay in my arms, looked up into my face and cemented their places in my heart. As he nestled into me, nuzzling my arm and falling asleep, I knew there was no hope of turning away or turning back- I had found them. We had found each other.