Week Twelve

682 19 3
                                    

I've agonized these last weeks at Children's Mercy. My lovely L___ is dying. He is in the hospital on hospice on a morphine drip. He started seizing and it didn't stop. A little part of me cries out, like I'm dying a little. I've hugged my kids more, and missed them more and told them I love them more.

I want to share some of my happy memories, those that I can look on and smile and remember why I am here. Why I love my job. First I'll tell you a really cute story that I wanted to share and it got overshadowed. While caring for a new patient one evening, a cute little fellow who was admitted with stridor, caused by a narrowing of his trachea after an intubation. Setting the stage, I can hear this high pitched whistle from the door, with every breath, he is squeaking. It is rather impressive stridor. This kiddo also has ADHD and autistic spectrum disorder. He talks a mile a minute and fixates on things. The two days I take care of him are lighter because of him. On the day I am getting ready to send him to surgery to fix his squeaky voice, he is full of questions, wanting to be reassured that he won't be awake when they put the needle in him and all those important things. The next question stops me, because I'm trying my hardest to understand his little speech impediment, then I have to check to see if this kiddo is out to lunch. He asked me "What is the name of your world?" I asked for some clarification. He said "It's the world in my head, the name of my world is Morganopia*. What is the name of your world?" I looked to his mother and then he explained that his world has several levels, and each one is different. He describes the different creatures and businesses that live there in his head. He is such a creative quirky little fella. His mom explained that his world was made up to help distract him and keep him thinking. I told him my world would probably be called Reganopia. He corrected me when I accidentally called his world Morgantopia...It's Morganopia.

What is the name of your world?

Another sight that brought a smile to me every time I saw him was this darling toddler with short gut syndrome. It is the result of NEC (necrotizing enterocolitis) or other things that cause kiddos to have most of their bowel removed. He often walks with his mom around the unit and he is hopping and skipping, keeping his mom on her toes. Always with a big sweet smile on his little face. He is in a onesie, with moccasins on and then you see his little monkey backpack and then you see the tube in his nose that is his only source of nutrition. The backpack holds his feeding pump. Whenever I walk by, he smiles and waves and I can't help but smile back.

Then there are the itty bitty babies, who just need held. I really wanted to have a day where I could just go and hold a baby. I've got a few days left, maybe I'll get a chance to do it still. Who knows. If you have kids, go hug them, thank God they are healthy, and if they are not, thank God that you have them and are honored with their keeping. If you're a kid, go hug your parents, tell them you love them. If you don't get along with your family, make amends. It could be so much worse.

As I wrote this, my lovely London K passed away. I called the hospital he was at, and they let me know he passed away at 8:30 pm on 9/19/12. He was 18.

Confessions of an InternWhere stories live. Discover now