Tales from the NICU Part III

Part 3: Fellow parents.

Here we come to the meat of the issue. It would have been nice if our fellow parents had been concerned, upright, clean, respectful people. People who were striving towards the same goal we were, namely, healthy kids. In stead they were dirty, nasty, low class, stupid, and unconcerned for their children. The majority (not all by any means), were low income, low education, low class and dirty. To understand this, you have to understand why babies end up in the NICU. First, the majority of patients were preemies. In this day and age, what group of people tend to not do all the required prenatal care? Who is more likely to live with, or be, a smoker? Who is more likely to be morbidly obese? This may sound like the most uncharitable of perceptions, but read a few of the following stories and you’ll see why.

One day, while watching my daughter in the larger room, a new baby was admitted. She was a preemie. About 3 or four hours later, the mom and dad came down to visit. Mom seemed normal enough, in a hospital gown. Dad however, was dressed in the style that can only be called “urban”. Baggy white T-shirt, low hanging jean shorts. He was also dripping in tattoos, not the least of which was three tears under his eye. I thought “oh, nice, a gang couple, wonderful. Well, they will stay in their area.” A little while later, dad returns with what I can only assume are his “family”. One of who is slightly younger than dad, about 19 or so. He has a open wound on his head. Not dripping blood mind you, no it looks like it clotted, but most decidedly still wet looking. It looked to me, and this may have been my imagination taking over, not unlike a wound one would receive from a broken bottle on the noggin. I couldn’t help but wonder “Isn’t there some procedure that the greeters follow that says something like ‘Hey buddy, seems like you got a wound there. Why don’t you get that taken care of, and then you can see the sick babies with out spreading your filthy germs about’”. The facilities of the NICU that where available for parent and sibling use where trashed. The bathrooms regularly had crap or pee all over the seats. The computer, which is there to update carepages, was often being used by unruly children to update their myspace page. The kids never got out of your way for anything. Never moved a chair if it was blocking the path to the fridge, not a foot if it was in the isle. Now, when I say dirty, you might think “Kyle, they weren’t dirty”. Oh, they were, I assure you. Not the majority, I’ll give you, only about 20% or so. One thing my mom said to me when I was a kid really stuck with me “There is no shame in being poor, there is shame in being poor and dirty”. In 2007, in the USA, there is no reason to wear clothes to what is supposed to be a fairly clean environment that have dirt ground into them. I mean it folks. Detergent is not that expensive, and you can get new T-shirts at the dollar store. I’m not expecting people to ware a fine new hat and a mourning coat, but clean clothes is never too much to ask. Which brings us to the tale of the Hobo. For a week or so prior to discharge, we were moved to the NIM – Neonatal InterMediate. We roomed with a very nice lady, Leoronda, and here son Jamaquel. Jamaquels dad was a, how do I put this, person of different housing. A bum, a tramp, a little homeless. Now, as far as pity and love for my fellow man goes, I’m just dripping with it. When it comes to germs being spread to my baby by some hobo, I have some issues. Dad, only really visited at night, as this gave him a place to sleep, namely the NICU’s lounge area. Also during this time, a day or so before we left, a different mom came to pick her baby up. It took the NICU staff a day to find her, apparently she was not at the phone number she had left, and had not been down to visit her baby in a few days. Her urchin of a son she brought with her was coughing all the time. Maybe it was allergies, but as I told the charge nurse later that day, I didn’t care at what the reason was. The last thing I need is for my daughter who has just had major surgery to fix her chest cavity to get cholera or typhus.

If you can avoid it, stay out of the NICU. If you end up there, I’m sure you will get great care from the staff, but for your sanity, try to get out of that place as much as you can stand being away from your child.

Tales from the NICU Part II

Part 2: Nurses

With only one exception, I think it would be safe to say that we received excellent care. That one exception was a nurse that Montelle didn’t feel at ease with. We brought it up to the Charge Nurse, and she saw to it that we wouldn’t have her again, and we didn’t. I wish the same efficiency could be said for the “primary nurse system”, which would more accurately called the “if you could, no rush” system. The idea is that you get to know nurses you like, and can request that they get assigned to your child. I think what was not conveyed to us was that they “might” get assigned, as it was often the case we would get a new nurse, when obviously a primary was free or otherwise assigned. They should have just told us at the out set “we’ll try to get you the nurse you want, but by no means is that assured.”

One nurse, lets call her Alice, was on duty during nights. She had been assigned to Fiona before, and had even been one of the ECMO techs back in the bad old days. Needless to say, we knew each other. So I called up to check on Fiona one day, and nurse Alice answers the phone. “Hello, this is Kyle” says I. “Hi. Did you miss me” sings the voice on the other end. “Yeah” I replied, because I really did miss as she was a great nurse. Then, there was a pause. “Oh my God” she exclaimed “is this Mr. TOK?”. “Yes, how is my daughter doing” I answered. “Oh, I thought you were Kyle the respiratory therapist who was just here. I thought he called back because he forgot something.” she said. “Oh. Well, did you miss me also?” I said. “Oh, uhu….yes of course Mr. TOK.” she cautiously, and in a low voice, replied. Ever since that little exchange, I always asked her if she missed me today, and the reply was always cautious yes. So funny.

The nurses RAN that place, as Jess noted in the comments on Part I. We were lucky enough to have a Nurse Practitioner who is a fellow member of our church. NNPs are, as near as I can tell, one step short of a doctor. This NNP was very involved in our case, and even was the one who installed Fiona's PIC line (a kind of IV). Unfortunately, she had to put it in her scalp, which means that she had to shave half her head, which was tough for Mrs. TOK. I can't give the nurses enough praise, as they were right along with us, up or down. You would think that they see so many babies that they wouldn't get involved emotionally, but they certainly did with us. Here's to the nurses!