It started at 1:00 in the afternoon -the time I was scheduled to watch a 6-year-old who I've known since she was 2, and a 3-year-old who I've known ever since the time their mother took a pregnancy test. I wasn't just there for the afternoon. Heck, I wasn't even there till late evening. I was there for the next 27 hours. I walked in with a venti skinny vanilla latte and their mother said to me, with a smile on her face, "If you need more, there's freshly ground beans in the freezer. Feel free to brew yourself a pot." I laughed but found out later that evening she was not joking.
Similarity #1 between children and the elderly: They value their independence.
But doesn't everyone? In my attempts to give the girls their independence, I let them pick out their daytime outfits in the morning. The 6-year-old did pretty well color-coordinating, but the 3-year-old came out of her room in her full-on fairy costume. Wings and everything. The whole shibang. Nonetheless, her dress was backwards and in my attempts to make her look somewhat appropriate for our walk with the family lab, she stomped and cried, "KAFWIN, LET ME DOOOO IT!" Until she took it off later on that day, she was knocking walls and counters with her wings. With one of my patients, adaptive equipment is not an option. Despite my countless explanations that it actually helps him be more independent till he can do things on his own without it (put socks on by yourself with your sock aid, reach for something out of your closet with your reacher without asking for assistance, pull your shirt down behind you with your dressing stick), he saw it as a label that he was incapable. And that was fine. People view adaptive equipment in different ways. For him, being independent was being INDEPENDENT. Not independent with modifications.
Similarity #2: Despite the many times they will attempt to convince you otherwise, they require supervision.
Usually the girls spend a good 15 minutes in the tub playing together with their bath toys before getting ready for bed. Once the tub's filled and they're sitting safely in it, allowing them to play what they call "tidal wave" is a bad idea. I could hear them laughing as I washed the dishes in the kitchem and figured everything was fine. But when I walked in the bathroom after their 15 minutes was up, the tub was filled a quarter of the way up. And the other three-quarters was everywhere BUT in the tub. "Girls! What are you DOING?!" They looked up at me laughing -"We're playing 'tidal wave'!" Duh.
A few weeks ago at work I walked out of my patient's room and noticed my co-worker's patient attempting a wheelchair to bed transfer unsupervised. From our weekly meetings and the few times he's been put on my schedule, I knew he wasn't suppose to be doing functional transfers unsupervised. I jumped in right before he could face-plant off his wheelchair and asked him what he was doing. He said, "I'm trying to get back in bed!" Duh. I told him he was not suppose to get out of his chair or out of his bed unsupervised. I knew he understood me. Even though all he did in response to my 1-minute safety education was laugh.
Similarity #3: Sometimes there is just no reasoning with them and you have no choice but to pick your battles.
Come naptime, the 3-year-old stomped and cried yet again, not wanting to take her fairy costume off. Despite my reasoning that the wing's wires will poke her in her sleep and that the flower in the front of the dress will most likely fall off, she wanted to sleep in it "like Thumbellina". One thing was for sure. She was not taking that thing off. She stomped and cried and even though I absolutely refuse to give into fits and tantrums, I figured she was tired. And quite frankly, I was tired too. So like Thumbellina, she took her afternoon nap in her fairy dress. Wings and everything.
A couple weeks ago I had a patient who absolutely hated rehab. In fact, I was pretty convinced up until the day she was self-discharged that she hated the world. I spent the first 45 minutes of every 60-minute treatment session explaining to her WHY she was in rehab and why we were doing what we were doing. She would apologize to me at the end of the session and I would go home thinking we had built rapport and that they next day would be a different day. It was not. I went in her room at 7:00 AM one morning because she was upset with me the day before for walking in at 8:00 because she said she was waiting for me since 7:00. So there I was, standing over her bed, asking her if she was ready for therapy and all she did was yell, "It's 7:00 in the morning! Why are you here so damn early?!" I was a millimeter close from walking out of her room and putting her on someone else's schedule. When I told her, obviously frustrated, that she was upset with me the day before because I WASN'T in at 7:00, she got up and decided to "get it over with". I spent the next 60 minutes of the session in silence, while she jabbered away at how she hates rehab and did not understand why she was doing what she was doing. I explained it to her once more, giving her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she has poor short-term memory. But she would not stop. So I picked my battles and did not argue with her. I was just there to help her with her self-care that morning and supervise her exercises. I left her room after the longest 60 minutes of my life.
Similarity #4: With some encouragement, sillyness, and a little give-and-take, they will do whatever you ask of them.
Sunday afternoon, the house was a disaster. There were crayons and papers scattered all over the floor, along with their stuffed animals. They were playing "school". I had just made them popcorn and under-estimated the size of the bowl the popcorn was flowing into. On top of that, the girl's drawers were opened and emptied out in their attempts to "independently" dress themselves. Now we all know, clean-up is never as fun as playing, no matter what the situation. Getting these girls to clean up was like pulling teeth. But the less I demanded and the more I encouraged, the more toys per minute they seemed to pick up. When I joined them and made it a game, they started picking up two toys at a time. And when I told them we were going to the dollar store afterwards, all the toys and clothes miraculously disappeared off the floor.
At work with my elderly patients, it is never suprising to get a patient who complains when you ask them to do something they find difficult or fatiguing in therapy. I find myself constantly saying, "You can totally do that!" or "How will you know till you try it!" When my patients are grumpy, I dish it back. And then they end up calling me a "happy booger" or a "cheery little one" and all is good. I have learned that if I respect what they ask, they have to respect what I ask. In other words, we meet eachother halfway. If they do a couple sit to stand transfers for me or attempt to put their pants on, I will go over handouts with them the last 10 minutes of our session so they can take a long rest break.
Similarity #5: Working with children and the elderly means there will be special moments that, as corny as it sounds, I will cherish forever.
Getting the girls in bed early so I can relax for the night means they will be up at the butt-crack of dawn the next morning. I pulled the covers off my head and found them standing in the doorway of my room, half asleep. I raised my arms up and we layed there together -me, the girls, and the lab. I looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was 6:50 AM. Holy crap. After 20 minutes, we went on a "pajama" walk with the dog. And that morning, we made chocolate chip cookies. I felt like a kid again.
Last week at work when I walked in my patient's room at 8:00 AM, she told me she was feeling so nauseated, she did not think she was up for a shower that morning. She is one who worries about her body odor due to her feeding tube inserted in her abdomen region, and unfortunately she had a doctor's appointment at 10:00. If this were a rare circumstance, I would've re-scheduled for later that day. But this patient of mine was always feeling nauseated and worried and sleepy. So I gave her a few minutes as I gathered a few things, came back, and encouraged her to attempt this shower no matter how long it took us within our 60-minute treatment session. When she got it done, her husband turned to me and said, "Thank you, Katharine. If it weren't for you, she wouldn't have gotten in the shower today". Appreciative family members always make my day.
So there you have it! The few similarities between children and the elderly that I have discovered this crazy 27-hour weekend.
No comments:
Post a Comment