When your child is in hospital your first concern is always for them, but it's still really important to look after yourself. After all if you're sleep-deprived, half mad and haven't eaten in three days how are you supposed to look after your little one? Babies pick up on tension so easily, and if hospital makes you stir crazy you pass it right onto them. The three week stay we had last November was a lesson to me, and our recent stay clarified things even more. So I thought it would be a good idea to pass on some of the things I've learned, just in case they're useful…
1: When you're taking your child into hospital – even if it's just to check something out – always assume you're staying for the night. I have a semi-packed washbag at home that I can just throw into a holdall at a moment's notice along with a change of top and undies. The bag contains an itty bitty deodorant and shower gel, some cleansing face wipes and dry shampoo (ward showers can be a bit rubbish so if you have long hair, dry shampoo is your friend.)
2: If your stay is longer, choice of Pjs suddenly becomes vitally important. I always sleep in a big baggy T-shirt and leggings. Consultants have a habit of popping to your bedside at 8am when you're still rubbing sleep out of your eyes and reliving the scared-little-boy trauma of the night before. I find it's less awkward to have a conversation with them when you're wearing something that passes as day clothes, rather than bunny pyjamas.
3: That said, don't forget the slippers. Wearing the same shoes 24-7 does weird things to your feet, and nurses frown upon barefoot night wanderings.
4: A torch is quite handy for night-reading. Ward lights out at 9pm, people.
5: Buy fruit and lots of it. Hospital canteens and shops sell gazillions of chocolate bars, a wealth of crisps and a dismal selection of yellowed apples. The last thing you need at a time like this is scurvy.
6: If someone offers to visit you, let them. Don't say 'only if it's not too much trouble' or 'really, we'll probably be busy' After a couple of days of just you, your your partner, a poorly dude and the medical staff, you'll need to hear about the outside world. Try not to cling to their legs sobbing when they have to leave.
7: Hand cream! You will be washing your hands approximately 30 times a day – even more if your sproglet is infectious. Not to mention the alcohol rubs at every ward entrance and in every loo. It's vital to stop the spread of germs, but that doesn't mean you have to get old-lady hands.
Some of you might think this sort of thing is shallow, and of course dry hands aren't the end of the world. But keeping clean and comfortable and not distracted by niggly little things makes you a better hospital-parent and that's important because…
8: Your child's treatment is down to you. You're terrified, disorientated and adrenalin is pumping through your body but despite all this, you have to be ready to reel off your child's medical story in 10 seconds flat.
At one point my little guy was being seen by the paediatric surgeon, the paediatrician (totally different discipline apparently) the gastro team, the dietician, the pain relief team, the pharmacist and the physio team. Each arrived at his bedside wanting a potted history but tailored to their specialism (developmental stuff for the physio, digestive stuff for the gastro team, etc.)* They were all carrying his file, but it's about four inches thick and there's no way they'd been able to absorb all the info they needed.
So it's up to you to keep it concise, factual and make sure they answer all your questions too. You're under more stress than you have ever been in your life but you have to be at the top of your game. No pressure there, then.
9: As for the question of staying occupied, I'm still stumped. Ward life involves long periods of waiting around, often next to a sleeping toddler, and it's hard to find something you can focus on when such a big part of your brain is screaming “EMERGENCY! SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH MY CHILD!” Bring books of the trashiest sort, with no death (unless it's one of those fun murder mysteries where someone frightfully ghastly is poisoned and everyone still dresses for dinner.)
Download things onto iPlayer to watch offline – although you'll probably never make it through a full episode. Make sure you have some non-taxing trivial games on your phone.
10: Keep busy. This is a very hypocritical piece of advice, because I don't follow it. I end up semi-paralysed by worry and unable to achieve anything. I read a few paragraphs. I write half a blog entry, knit a few rows then unpick them because I haven't counted stitches properly.
Because when you're in hospital all normal life is on hold. I suppose the best piece of advice is to realise that, and not to put pressure on yourself to keep all those balls in the air. Just focus on your sickly little one, survive it and remind yourself that this isn't real life. That starts again when your little one is better, and when you can go home.
*A footnote. I just want to say thank you to the amazing team of people that kept my little guy alive and got him well again. I might moan a bit about hospitals in this post, but when it comes down to a choice between decent showers for parents vs huge medical teams dedicated to the welfare of my child, I know which one I'll pick.
Hi,
ReplyDeleteI just read through your blog after following the link in the latest edition of Chew. Your list of hospital tips matches our own very closely and my wife and I both agree with you that keeping yourself sane is a vital part of caring for your child. We had more than 500 nights in hospital with our TOF during the first three years so have some idea where you are coming from!
I was also wondering if the fundo was a success? If not we may have some ideas for you. However, I sincerely hope it has made all the difference for your little fella.