The tapestry of the life of a medically complex family

Archive for the ‘“the Ugly”’ Category

Visual Space

I had to move a toy there. I took the fire station and moved it to the spot where his dog bed was until this morning. Each time I pass through the study, sobs escape, but having the visual space filled helps…

On May 3, 2002, our pup came home to live with us. 8 weeks old, 11 lbs, a 9th birthday present for my Eldest. Jake was so tiny we had to put boxes into his crate & cover them with a blanket to make the space feel comforting. He fit in immediately, playing & growing alongside his pal.

His first few years there were multiple moves but he was happy to be where his pack was, through every transition. 7 years ago we moved to our current home. He went from being a stay-at-home-alone dog, to a dog with a house full of kids, with nurses & me at home except for hospital overnights.

My oldest finished high school & went to college out of state. His visits brought increased excitement & unending smiles from Jake. After a visit, Jake would run to the kitchen with every next arrival to see if it was his buddy back again.

Jake turned 12 in March. Things were harder. Transport was difficult. He had mostly wonderful days, and some that were frighteningly awful. Until yesterday, bad days coincided with difficult travel, vet visits, an injury. This past week he looked tired. This past week he had less energy. Yesterday he did not eat and was very winded crossing a room.

He held on. He smiled at me every time I pet him. He smiled when I gave him my eldest’s pillow and looked to the back of the house. He was holding on to see his boy.

This morning was the hardest but we were together. Jake rode peacefully in the car- even sat to look out the window smiling. His breathing was ragged but he wagged his tail. He smiled and gazed lovingly at us. And now he’s gone.

He was a wonderful & sweet & happy dog. He provided comfort & comedy & joy to everyone he knew. He snuck his Petco Christmas presents from piles in the closet. He leapt off a 4′ patio edge into my sister’s pool. He was my loyal & ever-present friend for over 12 years. I miss him. I ache. I am thankful for EVERY minute.

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Category:

"the Ugly", Big Bro, LOSS, pet

2 Years & STILL Screwed

Two years I have sacrificed my health, any semblance of life outside the playroom, having clean laundry on any kind of regular schedule. Averaging 4.5 hours of sleep a night, but never consecutive. Clawing at the soil on the edge of our cliff, trying to hang on. Eating oatmeal 2 meals per day while feeding the kids what they need for health & growth.

FINALLY I refinance. FINALLY I find a grant source to support some of the ingredients for my son’s whole food formula. And, in the last week, finally finding nurses for night time so that I may possibly learn what it is to sleep 5 hours at a time… With the 3 shifts I have on 2 weekdays, I might be able to grocery shop with just ONE vulnerable kid in tow…

And the insurance is dropping hours from my nursing schedule. If I have overnight nursing, I can’t have day shifts. If I use day shifts, it’s back to no sleep… WHY is it that we never make headway? Forget winning, how about having the opportunity not to FAIL?

šŸ˜„

Category:

"the Ugly", Preemie, Trach, Twins

Battle Cry

I apologize when I cry. Not just to the friend who wipes his shirt with a tissue when I’m done, or the friend whose dishtowel needs the dryer after a long lament.

I apologize for each tear that escapes my eye while talking about the difficulty of awake nights spent caregiving my children. I apologize for the gasp that escapes as I talk about my son’s ride in the wagon to the apple tree, to which he could run 2 years ago. I apologize for the pause while talking to the phone nurse and describing how ill my child is again, or yet.

I apologize to my nurses when I cry from the stress, or from loss, or from injury. I apologize.

I grew up in a home where crying was a sign of ‘weakness’. Crying in the house of the Colonel was the equivalent of yelling your inadequacy from the rooftop. It was admonished. It was hidden. It was shunned.

There is a doctor my kids’ see who must also have been raised by the colonel. The notes describe significant concern about my stress. Tears fell but I continued; my kids were safe, they were (are) well-cared for, yet my stress was concerning.

I am sure I apologized. I apologized today to the phone nurse. I apologized to the doc who called me back- not because I cried then, but because I had cried.

The next time I cry, I will work not apologize. When I cry, it is because I am strong for so long. When I cry, it is because I feel so deeply. When I cry, it is to release the strain, to refill my resolve, to regain my strength. I should not apologize for that.

Category:

"the Ugly", FEAR, Judgement, Special Needs

The Day Before Again

Originally I published this piece the day before my friend’s son’s first birthday after his death. This week has been one of tremendous loss in my community of friends and another friend is trying to get through a 10th birthday- that isn’t. My heart is still touched by these many children. Here is my message to E’s Mom:

SO many posts are running through my head but the one I need to write TODAY is this one- because tomorrow I can’t say all that needs to be said today.

Today is Tuesday. Today is just another day. Today is the day before the 5th birthday of a child of a wonderful friend of mine. Today should be a day for last minute preparations, baking, decorating, stuffing gift bags… but it’s not. Because my friend’s child had a complex medical condition and he died last fall. He is dead. People can say the ugly words religions use to describe this, but saying “angel”, “heaven”, “whole again”, “in the light”, NONE of these things fill the emptiness in my friend’s arms, the ache in her heart, the agony she is experiencing as tomorrow approaches. Tomorrow she faces another “first” in the list of events after the death of a child- his first birthday on which he will not age, he will not enjoy candles and cake with she and his younger brother, he will not… anything. He no longer exists in the physical realm we experience on Earth. It SUCKS. And I am angry at the Universe that so many of my friends have to, or will, experience this pain.

I want to remind her that tomorrow is no different- it is not special in its difference from each and every day- every painful day without her son. It is holding her now in a state of terror, fear that tomorrow will bring the collapse she has spent all these months fighting. That does not make tomorrow more special than any day this week, or last week, or last month, or Christmas or any other day. Tomorrow will come, and the searing pain and agony of his loss will be great, but not as great as that first day, that first moment of knowing and not being able to bring him back. I want her to know that she survived the worst on that day, that she has the strength to face and get through tomorrow because she has already survived the worst. She has already committed to continuing, to thriving, to supporting her other son to thrive, as the son who has died would want. She is so strong- although she is feeling as if a drop of water, a shift in the breeze, might be all it takes to break her. She is strong and she doesn’t need to be- because we are here to help hold her when the journey knocks her down.

I want her to know, and to feel, that she is loved and supported and right and just on her trail through the perils of the loss of a child. What I want to do is go to her; to bring cake, to bring candles, to bring wine, and to sit and hold hands and hug and cry and laugh and remember the beacon her child shared with the world for his short 4.5 years. I want to celebrate the gift that was her child. I want her agony to soothe, her memories of joy to once again be strong. I want some of the moments she experiences to be filled with peace. Please know we love you and will be celebrating the life of our special friend tomorrow.

Category:

"the Ugly", Community, FEAR, LOSS

Tally

After another full week without a nurse shift, I feel run down and ‘finished’ but ‘unaccomplished’. As with parenting in general, being a parent of children with complex medical needs is a never-ending “To-Do List” with medical treatments & status assessments tacked on to the page. Sometimes it helps me to glance into the rear-view mirror at the end of a long week so I can truly appreciate that I did get some things done.

This week without nursing I have ensured that 3 complex kiddos have received every dose of their medications & supplements. These doses include: 6 doses each of Xoponex & Duoneb via nebulizer; 6 doses of Nexium; 12 doses of Dulcolax & Singulair;14 doses of Albuterol via nebulizer; 16 doses of Hypertonic Saline via nebulizer; 17 doses of Prevacid; 18 doses of Miralax, iron, multi-vitamins & Vitamin D; 36 doses of Pulmicort via nebulizer; and probably 40 saline nebs since last Thursday… I have done 36 Vest PT treatments of 20 minutes each and listened to lung sounds at least twice daily per kid for the last 6 days (36 times). I have only taken temps on a couple of the days the kids seemed to be “brewing” something- maybe 3-4x per kid so 10-12 times.

I have prepared 3 homemade meals & snacks every day & calculated calories to be sure to make individual daily totals. I have made homemade peanut butter formula each day and calculated individual volumes to be sure each child gets their minimum formula calories, as well as other fluids to meet daily needs. I have set-up a GTube feeding each night, flushing my son’s GTube before & after each start & stop of the feed. I have gotten up to toilet my Tubie 2x per night, every night, as I am sure will continue tonight. Toileting involves: awakening, shutting off & removing the oximeter, shutting off the feed pump, clamping the line, extension & Ferrell bag & flushing the extension, removing the extension, removing mist & attaching an HME to the trach, then FINALLY taking him out of the crib to go toilet. Returning to the crib requires the reversal of the complicated process. Most often my 45lbs son wants to be carried back&forth to the bathroom at the back of the house because he prefers to stay half-asleep during this process. On a rare occasion, my daughter with a trach has also needed to be up for toileting- at least with her there’s no GTube feed.

The overnights this week have not been uneventful. My daughter’s oximeter plug became loose and alarmed when the battery ran low. Her oximeter probe died one night, needing to be changed around 1:30am- of course. šŸ™‚ My son has required supplemental oxygen on 3 of the last 5 nights- hmm, maybe something IS brewing… He has the 3/4L he wears every day, all day, but has required 1-2 Liters per minute on those 3 evenings, including last night. I have changed over the regulator onto full tanks for the 5 tanks we went through this week “living life”.

I have done almost no laundry except the one emergency load of pajamas that was unavoidable. I really hope we can raise the funds we need to move the Washer/Dryer upstairs & fix the electric. It’d be great to gave thrown in a load or two during other days.

I have gone to 3 appointments. I followed up with 3 clinics on medications and changes for 2 of my children per clinic. I have addressed acute issues for 2 of my kids with their GI & pediatrician. I have fought with our DME over their need to deliver the trachs we ordered at the end of February. I have dealt with the fridge repairmen for nearly an hour on the phone- and am faced with another delay.

We have completed homeschooling tasks, played games, made beds every day and had dance parties or done stretches. We have played outside on the deck and adventured out in the car to drive along the coast on a brisk New England Sunday. My kids saw their first lighthouse, Coast Guard station and surfers. I have shoveled a foot of snow off steps & the deck. We visited one of our former nurses and her beautiful new baby.

Whew! No wonder I feel tired! It’s been a full week for 1 Momma, 2 twins with 2 trachs, 1 GTube & 1 5yr old. There is still more to do before the nurse arrives tomorrow morning. On to lunch!

Category:

"the Ugly", Environmental Challenges, kids, Medicine, Preemie, Special Needs, Trach, Twins

10 Things about Home Nursing

… That I wish could be learned by reading a list & not having to endure it.

10. Home nursing often attracts the dregs of the profession. Families count narcotics, ADHD meds, pain pills- consider a lock box to which you have the only key.

9. Home nurses may misplace, damage or ruin things in your house and never admit to having done so.

8. Home nurses are NEVER on time and rarely go a month without missing a shift.

7. Home nurses can rarely identify a trach or GTube from an array of medical equipment and plumbing supplies.

6. Home nurses bad mouth families as often, if not more than, families express disdain for their performance.

5. Home nurses rarely have the assessment skills to determine when medical follow-up is needed.

4. Home nurses rarely have any skill which they can “instruct the parent” to support the parent’s ability to better maintain their child at home.

3. Home nurses rarely LISTEN and COMPLY with medically sound advice or procedures which have proven successful for a child in the past, if this information is shared by a parent.

2. On a rare occasion, your family may truly be blessed with a professional nurse who is a shining beacon of skill, caring and support to a family with a child with complex medical needs.

1. If you find your beacon, HOLD ON TIGHT: support them, be flexible, make tea, make coffee, celebrate birthdays, celebrate Tuesdays, bake cookies… Keep looking & sorting through the rest until you find them.

Category:

"the Ugly", Medicine, Nursing, Preemie, Special Needs, Trach, Twins