|
January 1, 2001
You've learned a new word for vomit - emesis.
You know where the sheets, towels and blankets
are kept. You have your own soap and shampoo.
The nurses have signed copies of your novel.
Chuck is not just the name of your older son.
You know how to get warm blankets.
You have not one but two Mac laptops hooked
up - one for email (the 3400) and one for games (the G3). And your own
wheeled computer table and a work area. And a splitter on the phone cord.
You keep a bathing suit, a change of clothes
and a nightgown in the bathroom.
You know what size diaper your son requires
when unconscious.
You have seen and understand the operation
of a condom catheter.
You know that a urinal is not an unusual flower
vase.
When you say you need to see the doctor -
the doctor shows up - because they know you will go looking for them if
they don't. And you know where to find them.
You can predict when your son needs platelets
before the nurse can.
When you say NOW! They jump because it probably
is an emergency. Because it has been.
You know the size (1 1/2 inches) and gauge
(20) for your son's port needles and the nurses don't.
The staff held a drawing to see who got the
two calendars you donated for Christmas.
Changing rooms for your son involves a team
of movers. And three suitcases.
You own a bath chair and a walker and have
a rented wheelchair at your disposal.
You arrange to have your son's doors to his
room left open because he can't hear the alarm. And they haven't figured
out why he is going deaf. Or if it is permanent. And they forgot he can't
hear the alarms.
You know where the port heads are inside your
son's chest and can describe this to the staff. Including the location
of the port head that is apparently moving around.
You know when the ports should be reassessed
- every seven days - and monitor this. Closely.
You keep track of pump and line changes -
every three days.
You give out the hospital number as an alternative
phone number. And you are dyslexic. (And you can't usually remember numbers....)
The shrink consults with you on the best way
to handle your son because they are used to children. Teen-age boys are
out of their area of expertise. Way, way outside. Especially my boys.
You suddenly believe in the FASTTRACK system.
(Transponder for automatic tollbooth collection.)
You call for specialist consultations before
the team has decided on them - and you are right. Unfortunately.
The staff consults you on medications that
your son reacts to - because
you've seen all the reactions and the staff
is on rotation.
You know and understand the difference in
an ultrasound, a CT scan, an MRI and an x-ray and can discuss this intelligently.
You keep hairspray, cold cream and a toothbrush
in the bathroom.
You no longer get lost at 4AM when driving
the Dunbarton Bridge route to Fremont.
You know how to mute every damn alarm in the
room.
You can read every monitor your son has ever
been hooked up to. And explain them to others.
You can tell when your son has not been sedated
enough for a bone marrow test. Or a lumbar puncture. And can communicate
this to the staff without maiming anyone.
You can program an air-therapy bed. Including
the vibrator.
You go to work with air-line carry-on rolling
luggage as your new briefcase - so you can keep a change of clothes and
clean underwear handy. Also three-four novels and a dozen magazines for
when your son is sleeping. A hairbrush and hair pins. Your medications
(just in case). A floppy disk or two and a zip cartridge.
You can get more work done at the hospital
than you can at the office.
You've learned to run the computer mouse by
dragging it up your pant-leg.
You skip the gym and lift your kid instead
of weights.
You skip the gym and haul the airbed down
to MRI. And back. With your son on it. Twice.
The back of your truck has a case of bottled
water (the hospital runs out on occasion), a case of diet soda (for you)
and a case of 7-Up (for your son). Also a few cans of soup, a few boxes
of crackers and a package of cookies - for those days when you forgot
to pack supper.
You are glad you have a truck.
You know what TED hose are and are wondering
if they come in beige......
|
