Ginger Mouse

Today, on the second anniversary of Gingermouse Take Two- give or take a couple of days- let us reflect on the few days leading up to Thanksgiving. Our hot water heater broke, I developed a terrifically itchy rash after peeling butternut squash, and when we talked about gratitude at the dinner table the night before the holiday the first statement was “I’m thankful that the dog is going to daycare for Thanksgiving so she doesn’t step on my head in the car!” The second was similar but it involved… dog poop.

Eeeagh, my hand! Oh, wait some of that is just squash sap.

Right. But a nice man came to repair the water heater on his way to Virginia for his family gathering, the rash went away in a few days, and the children… well, they are still eight and I love their silly jokes.

This afternoon Andy noted that we never got to what I’m grateful for. So, here it is.

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Every day during rounds Jeremiah*, a toddler with a congenital illness and severe developmental delay who required intense care at home, lay silently in his hospital crib, back arched, thin limbs still. In the year that I had known him I don’t think he ever looked at me, though I was fiercely dedicated to him and his family.  I also don’t know if he was able to remember me from one day’s rounds to the next or from admission to admission. He certainly knew nothing of the time I spent outside the room advocating for him and his parents.  When he was at home he had many appointments, continuous feeding through a tube in his stomach, medications given on a schedule, and needed constant attention to keep him well. Jeremiah’s family, though, was trapped in the web of poverty and circumstances that ensnares so many of my patients, and they weren’t meeting his complex needs.  During each hospital stay I tried to get help for them but their challenges were convoluted and impenetrable.

As a result, the last day of his last hospital visit was different. Continue Reading