*Warning: Not for the faint of heart due to graphic
medical language in 1st paragraph.
*Well, we’ve
had to get creative. After my child
slept through a gastrointestinal bleed (sorry but there’s no other way to say
this), after we had our morning rush to the E.R. we decided there must be a way
to monitor her at night. We thought of
using one of those hospital monitors that read out blood pressure, heart rate,
etc. but by the time her vital signs dropped we’ve lost precious time. She’d already become what they call
hemodynamically unstable after and had rescue steroids, dopamine, transfusions,
and ended up in ICU. So we thought of
using a potty alarm but (again no other way to say this), she’s a girl so that
would only work for 3 weeks out of 4. So
we did this anyway because 75% of the time is better than nothing. Then I thought hey, what about baby monitors? Especially the kind that are so sensitive
that breathing can be heard? This would
work because, just trust me, we’d hear it.
Ok I’m done
with the gross medical stuff, onto the unexpected benefits.
So we got
the baby monitor which also lights up with sound. If you remember from last month, my child is
autistic and talks herself to sleep. So
I’m thinking, great now I get to hear it in stereo and I don’t really need to
hear it on the monitor because I can sort of hear her voice through the
wall. But honestly after spending the
past year and a half separated from her at night while she was hospitalized multiple
times, I’ve actually turned the monitor on early because hearing her while I’m
in bed at night is actually comforting because I know she’s right there, home,
in her room.
Anyway, one
night I got an unexpected surprise. One
of the things she does is imitate other people.
So I’m hearing her do what sounds like an interview. Her sweet voice asks “So what’s it like being
the lead guitarist of Black Veil Brides (her fave band)?” And this somewhat low, nasally, almost teen
boy voice responds “Well, uh, it’s like really cool!” I’ve heard her echo lines from videos but
nothing ever like this. And the
conversation goes back and forth and it’s like there’s TWO people in the other
room, I’m laughing so hard I’ve got tears running down my face which I put in
the pillow because I don’t want her to hear me laughing. I actually had to turn off the monitor for a
few minutes to catch my breath because I couldn’t stop laughing. And I’m thinking “Thanks Steph for a good
laugh, I really needed that.”
So in
something as serious as monitoring a possibly life-threatening condition came
such joy. Silver linings.
I remember
when she was born with one small kidney, respiratory distress, and not expected
to make it. We were literally in
survival mode the first three years. But
it wasn’t until she was diagnosed with autism at age 7 that my world came
crashing down. People were understanding
about kidney disease but with autism it was like they’d get the garlic out to
repel a vampire. Now that we knew she’d
survive, I started thinking about her quality of life with autism. But still later, I started thinking about how
I felt when she had her kidney transplant-how scared I was. I mean, this is an organ, not just
surgery. I’m in the waiting room with
other families and one child is getting a HEART transplant. I’m thinking “Geez, I’m glad it’s just a
kidney” and can’t imagine how the other family is dealing. Even later, when my child is so ill with
gastrointestinal issues and they start talking about removing her colon and I’m
wondering if things can get any worse (never wonder this by the way), this time
I’m in the waiting room with another family going through the same GI issues
but their child also has a brain tumor.
And again I’m thinking “Wow and here I was feeling sorry for myself
dealing with a kidney transplant and GI issues and they’re handling a true life
and death situation”. And I wonder how
they do it.
It’s all a
matter of perspective. When she was
born, I was worried about kidney disease.
Then with the new diagnosis, it
flipped to autism. Until her kidney
failed, then it switched back to the transplant. Until she had the GI issues that hospitalized
her 8 times (so far.) So basically it’s
what’s happening at the time.
So just be
careful. You might hear something on a
baby monitor that puts it all into new perspective.
Remain hopeful,
Lauren
Resources:
YOU Remember that families are the experts on
their child as they are with them 24/7.
You’re stronger than you think!
Lauren Agoratus is a parent/advocate who serves
as the NJ Coordinator for Family Voices, a national network that
works to “keep families at the center of
children’s healthcare” at www.familyvoices.org
or FB www.facebook.com/pages/Family-Voices-Inc-National/137783182902269. She also serves as NJ representative supporting caregivers
across the lifespan for the Caregiver Action Network (formerly National Family
Caregivers Association) in a volunteer capacity at http://caregiveraction.org/ or FB www.facebook.com/CaregiverActionNetwork.
ReplyDeleteHugs and hugs
Sending you many good thoughts
You write beautifully
Thanks for your kind words & hugs too!
ReplyDeleteDon't you just love the innocence of children? So sweet!
ReplyDelete