amber rahim

Chronic illness: the parts we don't talk about


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Lord help me please. It’s tough being a mum

I promised myself that I would never do this. But I did. I knew it would hurt my child but I did it anyway.

I let two adults hold her down while she was kicking and screaming while another performed a medical procedure. And one of the adults holding her down was me.

But how did we get here? How did we get to this sunny day, full of hope of the lightheartedness of sumer, but doused with an icy blast to my heart like the arctic ocean has crashed down on me?

It’s a long story but I will try to keep it short.

She has developed a fear and trauma about having her mickey button changed. She’s been through EMDR to deal with the trauma. She and her psychologist made a plan to deal with some of the scary things:

  1. Seeing the whole in her body where the mickey sits. I’m not surprised she is scared, it gives me the heebee geebees just thinking about it. So what’s the plan? She gets to watch the mine craft films on youtube that she loves
  2. Seeing all the medical equipment laid out makes it feel like an operation. So we would keep that covered.

Everything was arranged. The psychologist was there. She had picked out her present that she would receive after her new mickey would be replaced.

Then she woke up this morning and it all went to hell. Her first event of fear and anger was pretty bad. So upset she started vomiting. I was taken back to the last time her mickey button exploded and I had to be a tough mama.

How do you get through to your child when she is out of her mind with fear? You can only tell them that you hear them. Over and over until they calm down.

The major event was at the hospital. We had agreed that J and I would not be in the room. F wanted it to just be the psychologist and the nurse. It was time and then she went wild. I can’t even call it a tantrum because it wasn’t. It was so much worse. It was a frightened girl who would do anything to make sure that she could day no.

I wholeheartedly believe that she should be heard and that we should take a “no” from a child seriously. But without her treatment, she would die.

And her treatment isn’t nice. Half the discomfort she feels comes from her medicines. And we can’t afford to have her refuse treatment. Ever.

If I listened to her no today, what would I do when she needs an IV? An IV placement is painful and she has really thin veins so it can take 30 minutes or more to secure one. 30 minutes os someone poking a needle in her. What if she says no then?

And her IVs always need to have potassium. That burns. What if she refuses that? Her potassium levels can drop so quickly that she could have a heart attack. It may seem far fetched but sadly we lost someone in the Bartters & Gitelmans community this way about a month ago.

With her condition, when she needs an IV, it means that she is seriously ill and needs it right away. Not when she has calmed down. Not later. No time for discussion. Now.

If I listen to her “no” now, it opens the door to her saying no more often. And we can’t do this. I can’t do this fighting every time.

I can’t let her say no. It’s either take the treatment or get life threateningly ill really quickly. And then give her the treatment when she becomes unconscious. And providing it’s not too late, maybe her kidneys won’t get damaged. Maybe she won’t die.

So that’s how I came to be holding her down on the hospital bed. Her arms being held by me, her legs by another nurse. And a third nurse changing her mickey button.

Her father carried her to her next appointment (it never stops with a chronically ill child). We bought something for her to eat along the way. She smiled eventually.

We will follow up with the psychologist later. She had never seen anything like this in her entire career. The strength of resistance. But we will regroup and look at how we can support F so that it isn’t so traumatic next time.

But I feel like crap. I want to eat bread. Even though I’m on a 3 week gluten free diet I want to scoff bread there’s a wheat famine approaching. But, given the very real medical reasons behind my gluten free diet, that would be like bashing my head with a sledgehammer.

So why did I do it? Why did I choose to be the one in the room with her? I know that J would have done it. But I just knew that I could get her to relax her stomach muscles. You see, she can scream, kick and relax her muscles at the same time. I don’t know how she does it, but she can. You see, it’s impossible to put a mickey into the whole in the stomach if your muscles are tense. We know, that’s one of the chapters of this story.

And she did listen. Even through the screaming. Even through the kicking. She listened and relaxed her abdomen for the change.

I just hope that she really heard me when I said

“I didn’t want to hurt you. But you need this medicine. Your illness sucks and I wish I wold change it but I can’t.”

Oh man, today it sucks to be a mum. Lord, help me please.

 


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Rock and a hard place: Back to a PEG?

for the last 3 and a half years we’ve been going to the hospital to get Fs Mickey button changed.

Now, technically, we can do it at home. Unfortunately the first time we tried it F had an infection in the wound and it really hurt. She freaked out and since then Nurse H does it. She’s the specialist stoma nurse and F has known her almost all her life.

it was going well until today. For various reasons nurse H isn’t allowed to do it anymore. Today I was getting trained and doing it with her and it all went tits up.

F has got really strong stomach muscles. (Although according to her she hasn’t because you can’t see the “stripes on her tummy”. What can I say? She obviously has a great role model in me, not).

She was tense. Tense muscles contract. I tried to pull it out and it got stuck. Nurse H took over and she had to practically yank it out and shove the new one in. That’s not how she did it, she’s a professional but it was almost impossible for her to do it.

So after 3.5 years building up to F allowing me to do it, we are back to square one.

Nurse H’s suggestions? Back to the child psychologist to help F get over this fear (of something that is actually uncomfortable and sometimes painful).

Or go back to a PEG. This can stay in for years (but you never know how long) but requires surgery to put in and change. And there will be a tube dangling from her body again.

Rock and a hard place.

(I was going to call it Hobsons Choice but I googled. What we have is a dilemma (2 unappealing choices). A Hobsons Choice (this or nothing) might be easier. Then I wouldn’t need to decide.

so, what to do?

Unpleasant experience every 2-3 months, potentially scarring her psychologically (some more).

Or surgery every 3years or so. And having to be careful every minute of the day so that the dangling tube doesn’t get caught on something.

Rock and a hard place.

The coach in me is saying “that’s not a helpful perspective” and she’s right. But I need to find some energy so that I can let go of this very stuck and comforting perspective (as long as it’s a rock and a hard place it’s really easy to put off making a choice).

I think it’s time for some Dr Seuss

WITH YOUR HEAD FULL OF BRAINS AND YOUR SHOES FULL OF FEET

YOU’RE TOO SMART TO GO DOWN ANY NOT SO GOOD STREET