Thursday, April 7, 2011

Perception is bigger than we think in our Chronically ill kids

It’s amazing how perceptive and smart chronically ill kids become when dealing with their own health.  Tyler has always had a way of learning and remembering anything and everything that was said around him, about him, or to him regarding his medical care.  I was fascinated by his ability to commit to memory huge medical terms and lengthy orders of procedures.  This was especially fascinating to me when I considered that much simpler things like where his backpack goes, whose turn is it to feed the dog and did he put on underwear often slipped his mind.   But ask him about his allergies to medication and Tyler quickly recites a long list including both brand names and generic. Tyler remembers every doctor we have seen since he was five and can recite them in chronological order with fascinating details including specialty, appearance, helpfulness and bedside manor or lack of it.


 When visiting a specialist I would often look to Tyler when I forgot which medicine we started last week.  I knew without fail I could count on him to know the name of the medicine the amount he took and any problem side effects, like it made him dizzy and turned his urine purple.  Some doctors would chuckle at Tyler’s medical prowess “Wow you should grow up to be a doctor big guy.” One surmised after Tyler had given him his own complicated diagnosis of the problem.  He went on to say “Maybe you could become a geneticist and find a cure for this” After he had finished his examination and stepped out of the room. Tyler leaned quietly over to me and whispered “ So the new plan is for me to grow up become a geneticist and save myself?” Looking worried he added,  “ I’m thinking we should ask for our co-pay back.”  


Still other doctors saw Tyler’s focus on his own health care as a cause for concern.  “If he could just focus more on being a kid instead of all the medical stuff” was often the suggestion.  Of course, how had we missed it? His focus was his problem. Tyler please try harder to ignore the ambulance, your lack of oxygen and especially the blinding nauseating pain and focus on this very nice game of Parcheesi the child life specialist brought up just for you.  Don’t get me wrong; I think there should be a balance in every situation.  But what many of Tyler’s doctors often did not understand is that Tyler, while extremely knowledgeable about his situation, rarely spent time focused on it for the sake of worrying about it.  He learned that by learning and understanding and helping his doctors learn and understand he was empowering himself to worry less.


 When I asked Tyler how he could never remember to feed the dog but he never forgets when it comes to telling each nurse the exact rate at which each of his medicines needs to be injected.  He laughed and said, “ I guess because if I forget about the dog she is a little hungry.”  “If I forget to tell the nurse and she pushes it in too fast…I will feel like my chest is going to explode.” I realized, that chronically ill children often take such an interest and commit to memory so many things not because they are obsessed with their illness.  Rather because they are obsessed with avoiding pain and discomfort.
 Over the years Tyler has had his chest filled with fluid because his port was accessed wrong. He has had terrifying hallucinations for hours because someone forgot to read the allergies listed in his chart. He has been stuck with a needle 12 times before someone mentioned they were still in training to start an I.V. He has had nurses loose a half a pint of his blood on its way to the lab. Once for two days he felt as if his legs were being stung by thousands of bees. This was later attributed to the wrong dosage of pain medicine.  

For years Tyler was misdiagnosed and told by some, perhaps it was in his head. With the wrong diagnosis came the wrong treatment, which culminated in a nineteen-minute code blue.
 Needless to say, all of this has made Tyler a shrewder wiser patient.  His motto is trust but verify. Ask anyone who has been in the hospital or had a child in the hospital for any length of time.  Things like that sometimes happen. The longer you are in-patient and the more complicated your illness the more likely you are to experience a mistake or two.  Tyler has learned the hard way and sometimes the painful way that doctors and nurses, like the rest of us, are human and sometimes make mistakes.


The more he knows. The more he can positively affect the few things about his health he can control.  Over the years, I have talked with many other parents of chronically ill children whose kids face similar challenges. They echo that their children are frustrated when doctors don’t take their child’s interest in their own health seriously.  Even young children have an incredible innate self-preservation mode. It’s often more in tune and wiser than many in the health care field give them credit for.  For these kids they don’t have another choice.  Just focusing on something else doesn’t help.  Often empowering themselves does.  
Inevitably a doctor will enter Tyler’s hospital room after having read his name on the door wrong. Good morning “ Avery” he will say.  I have to chuckle a little when this happens and I read the look on Tyler’s face.  It says  “I ‘m keeping an eye on this one, he may not be the brightest bulb in the box.” O.K. but can you blame him?

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

“I ‘m keeping an eye on this one!"

It’s amazing how perceptive and smart chronically ill kids become when dealing with their own health. Tyler has always had a way of learning and remembering anything and everything that was said around him, about him, or to him regarding his medical care. I was fascinated by his ability to commit to memory huge medical terms and lengthy orders of procedures. This was especially fascinating to me when I considered that much simpler things like where his backpack goes, whose turn is it to feed the dog and did he put on underwear often slipped his mind. But ask him about his allergies to medication and Tyler quickly recites a long list including both brand names and generic. Tyler remembers every doctor we have seen since he was five and can recite them in chronological order with fascinating details including specialty, appearance, helpfulness and bedside manor or lack of it.




When visiting a specialist I would often look to Tyler when I forgot which medicine we started last week. I knew without fail I could count on him to know the name of the medicine the amount he took and any problem side effects, like it made him dizzy and turned his urine purple. Some doctors would chuckle at Tyler’s medical prowess “Wow you should grow up to be a doctor big guy.” One surmised after Tyler had given him his own complicated diagnosis of the problem. He went on to say “Maybe you could become a geneticist and find a cure for this” After he had finished his examination and stepped out of the room. Tyler leaned quietly over to me and whispered “ So the new plan is for me to grow up become a geneticist and save myself?” Looking worried he added, “ I’m thinking we should ask for our co-pay back.”



Still other doctors saw Tyler’s focus on his own health care as a cause for concern. “If he could just focus more on being a kid instead of all the medical stuff” was often the suggestion. Of course, how had we missed it? His focus was his problem. Tyler please try harder to ignore the ambulance, your lack of oxygen and especially the blinding nauseating pain and focus on this very nice game of Parcheesi the child life specialist brought up just for you. Don’t get me wrong; I think there should be a balance in every situation. But what many of Tyler’s doctors often did not understand is that Tyler, while extremely knowledgeable about his situation, rarely spent time focused on it for the sake of worrying about it. He learned that by learning and understanding and helping his doctors learn and understand he was empowering himself to worry less.



When I asked Tyler how he could never remember to feed the dog but he never forgets when it comes to telling each nurse the exact rate at which each of his medicines needs to be injected. He laughed and said, “ I guess because if I forget about the dog she is a little hungry.” “If I forget to tell the nurse and she pushes it in too fast…I will feel like my chest is going to explode.” I realized, that chronically ill children often take such an interest and commit to memory so many things not because they are obsessed with their illness. Rather because they are obsessed with avoiding pain and discomfort.

Over the years Tyler has had his chest filled with fluid because his port was accessed wrong. He has had terrifying hallucinations for hours because someone forgot to read the allergies listed in his chart. He has been stuck with a needle 12 times before someone mentioned they were still in training to start an I.V. He has had nurses loose a half a pint of his blood on its way to the lab. Once for two days he felt as if his legs were being stung by thousands of bees. This was later attributed to the wrong dosage of pain medicine.

For years Tyler was misdiagnosed and told by some, perhaps it was in his head. With the wrong diagnosis came the wrong treatment, which culminated in a nineteen-minute code blue.

Needless to say, all of this has made Tyler a shrewder wiser patient. His motto is trust but verify. Ask anyone who has been in the hospital or had a child in the hospital for any length of time. Things like that sometimes happen. The longer you are in-patient and the more complicated your illness the more likely you are to experience a mistake or two. Tyler has learned the hard way and sometimes the painful way that doctors and nurses, like the rest of us, are human and sometimes make mistakes.



The more he knows. The more he can positively affect the few things about his health he can control. Over the years, I have talked with many other parents of chronically ill children whose kids face similar challenges. They echo that their children are frustrated when doctors don’t take their child’s interest in their own health seriously. Even young children have an incredible innate self-preservation mode. It’s often more in tune and wiser than many in the health care field give them credit for. For these kids they don’t have another choice. Just focusing on something else doesn’t help. Often empowering themselves does.

Inevitably a doctor will enter Tyler’s hospital room after having read his name on the door wrong. Good morning “ Avery” he will say. I have to chuckle a little when this happens and I read the look on Tyler’s face. It says “I ‘m keeping an eye on this one, he may not be the brightest bulb in the box.” O.K. but can you blame him?

Kim Avery

Thursday, March 10, 2011

All Things To All People

I was at a meeting with other parents of chronically ill children and amazed how the discussion became more and more about the kids "normal" life and less about their illness. We were discussing socializing, schooling and allowing our kids to be "normal" and what that meant. It hit me how many hats we wear as parents of these wonderful, beautiful kids.

As Moms of Chronically ill children we become "all things to all people". Do you remember that scripture verse? Paul was applying this to us as witnesses for Christ. But you know what, we are witnesses within our own families. We live the gospel every day as we move forward in a world that is full of challenges.  We become nurse, financial CEO (or juggler in most cases), Insurance Adjuster, SSI expert, Social Worker, along with running households, some of of you work, and at some point you navigate your world of husbands, friends and life.


We go through trials and tribulations that we never imagined could possibly happen to us and as we fall into bed each night we really are thankful for a few hours of rest. Whether you realize it or not, you have accomplished more for your family than just meeting their physical needs.  I forgot to mention that you are a psychologist and the emotional stabilizer and spiritual advisor as well.

I see this more and more as Olivia becomes a teenager. She now struggles with fitting in and finding the time to be involved with friends. Chronically ill kids are home bound a lot at times and as within any social circle, people move on in life. Their life did not stop and get put on hold. It has been more of a challenge in the teenage years. Teens tend to form their comfort groups and new people ( or even ones they knew before) have a hard time breaking in to that circle of relationships.

So, as Moms of your kids, you not only become their parent but their bff. But that has it's advantages and disadvantages. For me, I also have to push Olivia out of the nest so to speak. But through it all, I am able to have more influence in her life than most parents. I can help her learn more about God and how He works in our lives than her friends and one day she will be on her own. And when that happens, she will hear my voice and the voice of a God that loves her so much to get through it all. So, as a parent, you take care of their physical needs but also their spiritual needs as well. And it is a great opportunity to be a witness of the miracles of God. Because our kids are walking miracles every day of their life.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Aiden's Radiothon

This is my(Barb) friend Lisa. Lisa has not only had to battle Chronic Illness with one son, Aiden but her youngest son Mason as well. Through all the turns, turmoil and tragedies she has dealt with each one head one and with a grace that has a beauty of it's own. It is my privilege to have her as a guest blogger on our site today because her and her husband Joey's heart. I hope you enjoy her blog as much as I do.  Thanks Lisa for  your time and your love.  Barb and Kim

Aiden's Radiothon Fundraiser: (If you would like to help Aiden in his mission go to Team Aiden on Facebook and email his Mom Lisa)

When Aiden was born 8 1/2 years ago, I didn't know he would be sick. I didn't know he would need a transplant. I never knew he would struggle for years with complications that couldn't be fixed, and weren't understood. I only knew, I had a baby boy. A new beautiful baby boy that I had hopes for. I had hoped he was kind. I had hoped he had a heart for God and was strong and giving. I never knew the obstacles he would be facing.


This path of chronic illness has carved him, shaped him, and developed him stronger in areas, and weaker in others. It is like a rush of water against a soft shore, taking pieces of it with each crash. I remember him at two, already had been transplanted, and coming off of yet another rejection. He was loud and vivacious, strong and full of toddler fury. He drag his IV poles, crashing through doors, filling the hospital halls with his contagious laughter. I love thinking of him like that. Seemingly so unaffected by it all.

Years have past and the waves crash harder on that soft shoreline. He has lost a close family friend, because her organ didn't come in time. He has seen so many children sick in the next hospital room with out Mommy's and Daddy's to hold them. He calls them "strays" and is confused to why they are always alone. He has been teased by children calling him short or saying he doesn't look old enough to be in 3rd grade. He has sat in doctor's offices while they have discussed terrible side effects, possible outcomes, and risks and benefits as they forget he is there, listening, fearful.

I have prayed that as God has allowed this, that he would apply a grace over him, stronger than anything his father and I could teach him. Allow him to have a strong sense of peace and most of all let this be used for good, for the Glory of God.

A few weeks ago, Aiden received a note in the mail, reminding him of the upcoming Radiothon for his local Children's Hospital. He read the note and immediately came up with a plan. His green eyes lit up, as he read it. He looked up and announced he wanted to raise money, "to help the sick children". It was unprompted, his idea. An idea pure from the heart. My mind immediatly thought back to myself holding him as an infant, praying and hoping he would be kind, giving, and a child of God. What a road this little guy has traveled, but yet the destination is exactly as I had prayed for.

Aiden has worked hard to raise money, a coin drive has started, and now with the help of many friends there are jars and collections happening in so many places. It is such a gift to see Aiden get power of his disease by doing something to help others. My heart is overflowing. Over the years I have been so fearful.

Would he he just be immune to the illness since he sees it all the time?

Would he just turn an apathetic cheek, or would he choose compassion and look on others the way we hope others look on him?

I am so proud to see that he has chose this path. I know that innocent 2 year old HAD to be shaped and molded by the raging waters to turn into this little boy that has grown to be such a warrior for other children.

I never planned this life. Living with an IV pole in my living room. I never imagined we could be still on the frontlines so many years later, yet be so full of Joy. The grace I prayed for to fall upon Aiden, is shinning this very week as he counts to coins, and wraps the pennies. It may not have been how I had hoped.. but Aiden is exactly every bit the child I dreamed he would be the day I first looked in his eyes.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

A little Sweeter by Kim Avery

Life a little sweeter


Posted 2 days ago

Things have been going very well here. I wish I could tell you exactly what has made the difference for Tyler and Thomas lately. It’s very hard to know with their illnesses cause and effect. Even good cause and effect. Perhaps it’s the medicine the boys began a few months ago. Our doctors here felt it was worth trying this new med even though it is not available in the U.S. So we enlisted the help of our friends around the world who have stopped at nothing to get enough medicine for the boys. Literally these super heroes traveled by planes, trains, and automobiles. One even faced extreme conditions including illness and floods to meet and relay the medicine to us. Thank you! Thank you!



We are very hopeful that this medicine is working. Perhaps stabilizing them and helping them stay out of the E.R. but only time will tell. I cannot express how happy it makes me that Tyler has not missed any school and that Thomas has not been back to the E.R. It’s still fresh in my mind that in a season not so long ago we were in the hospital every other week.

Of coarse as you would imagine as a family we do not take health for granted. But I am delighted to realize that beyond that our children seem to have an appreciation and perspective about everyday life that is such a blessing.

The unpredictability of chronically ill children's lives is often overwhelming for them and their families. You would think that many of these kids would be a mental mess, drowning in disillusionment and self-pity. I have found the opposite to be true. Chronically ill children are often some of them happiest and most content people I know. I have come to realize that much of it steams from their perspective. Along with all the misery that accompanies being ill seemingly comes a gift - an incredible appreciation for life.



Tyler’s friend Olivia has been through more pain and life threatening uncertainty than any other child I know. And yet, in spite of it all, her enthusiasm for life is remarkable. I was privileged to spend some time with Olivia a few weeks ago and it was one of life’s moments I will never forget. She hugged me and with a huge smile said “Guess what Mrs. Kim? I got my tube out just in time for you to take my picture and next week I am having surgery to get my stint out. Isn’t that wonderful?” Shining with an inner joy she continued, “I am so grateful.”



Grateful? Two transplants, stints, cystic fibrosis, diabetes, not to mention hundreds of days in the hospital in agonizing pain? But there it was. Gratitude and appreciation. Her refreshing outlook amazed me. These chronically ill children really do view each moment as God given. It's a perspective that changes the way they perceive everything.



A dear friend of mine recently taught a class to Tyler’s scout troop entitled "Citizenship in the Nation." My friend relayed to me later that when they discussed the phrase “endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” Tyler raised his hand and gave a short dissertation on what he believed. He discussed how the phrase refers to the “pursuit” of happiness not the guarantee of happiness. He talked about how he believed the two were very different perspectives.



I know Tyler, like many other chronically ill kids, often sees the world in a very special way. Maybe the way we all should see it. What would our lives be like if everyday we woke up thrilled just to be healthy? If everyday, in spite of circumstances, we were excited about the possibilities of today and humbled by our ability to pursue happiness to the fullest. What if we viewed every breath as a God given gift and not a guarantee? Maybe for all of us our problems might not appear so overwhelming. Perhaps the sun would seem a little brighter. The grass would seem a little greener. And I suspect, just like for Tyler and Olivia, every moment would seem a little sweeter.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

So this is my friend Kim. Hilarious as she describes just one day in the life of "Tyler" and this is the reason we became fast friends. You see, both of us have kids that are complicated, medically. When I hear Kim, I really think life is easy for  me, and vice versa. But, we are great at playing off each other, describing and analyzing our problems to the point of bust a gut laughter. Because when you have kids that have specialist, well, you just have to laugh. And most of all, you have to have friends. Friends that are honest, truth seekers and non-sympathizers. You know what I mean, the ones that don't feel sorry for you and will take a moment, read your mail, and tell you to get on with life. So, that is what Kim and I can do for each other and we are hoping that as we start on this road to blogging that some of you will want to join us. We want only what is best for our kids and sometimes that means a myriad of things.  So sit back and laugh, cry, empathize and even yell at times as we journey together. Ask questions, throw out idea's...be a part of this journey we call "real" life...kids with special needs, chronic illness, and our families and friends along the way. Pulling, dragging, shaping and loving each and every day we have....


Posted Mar 1, 2010 7:47pm


Have you ever seen the movie "Vacation?" Do you remember the part when Clark Griswald and his family arrive at the amusement park after days and days of a crazy nightmare trip trying to get there and the park guard tells him "The parks closed. The moose out front should have told ya." Remember how Clark absolutely loses it?

I can relate!!! We saw cardiology last week who said its not their thing "Someone should have told you. See a Nephrologist and genetics." We cannot get into nephrology for weeks. How silly are we?

We jumped through hoops got an appointment with a renowned geneticist. Genetics confidently says "this is obviously a cardiology problem but you need an autonomic cardiology specialist. Here is his name. Go see him." We quickly made an appointment for today to see the autonomic cardiologist specialist who would, just by title, know more than the regular cardiologist. Right?

After a great week and a half Tyler woke up very sick this morning. He had low blood pressure and was in significant pain. It just seemed so crazy. He had even been well enough to enjoy skiing with friends last Wednesday....but that's how these cycles have been crazy and unpredictable. We called his own doctor early this morning who advised, that none the less, the object was to get him help from someone who knows..."Keep the appointment."

So we carry him to the car and drive two hours in morning traffic to the other side of Atlanta. Its only when we arrive in the waiting room that we are cheerfully greeted by a large Moose......no wait, a receptionist who says, "the doctor is coming to talk with you. He has read your chart and feels that Tylers case is so complicated that he really cannot help." Obviously how could he possibly help....in all his training this doctor had not mastered the use of the complicated device we call a TELEPHONE. "I'm not sure why you are here." He explains "its not really my thing someone should have told you."

When I get a hold of this someone I am going to let them have it!!!!!

Poor Tyler then had to endure another hour and a half ride home. After several more phone calls while Tyler was pleading at four o'clock today home health care hooked him up to I.V. and he is finally resting. We have also spent the last few weeks making what seemed like hundreds of phone calls to programs who WILL NOT accept anyone under 18 in their autonomic programs.

"I guess SOMEONE should have told us."