Sometimes this is very successful.
Sam now knows how to take his temperature. "Is it time for my vitals yet?" he says, as he holds onto the thermometer and makes it work.
|What, this old thing? Sure, I'll take my temp for ya.|
|Someone is proud of himself...|
|He calls it his "nest" when it's up as high as it can go and he's all snuggled in there.|
|That's not a mask, it's a hat? Or a headband? Or something.|
But the nurses and doctors and psychologists also remind me that limits are important. The kids who have limits set, they say, ultimately do better. The kids whose parents help to carry rules and routines over from home have an easier back-and-forth transition, as well as a transition at the end of treatment. So they say.
That doesn't make it much easier here, though, when Sam is pushing every limit he can find.
Eating in bed? Nope, that was just the first week.
(Eat anything you want? You betcha.)
Screen time all you want? Seriously!? Did you think we would fall for that one?
(Screen time as reward for eating? You betcha.)
Being rude to nurses or other health professionals? Don't. You. Dare.
Hospital parenting is trickier than I ever imagined.
Today was a sleepy day for Mr. Sam. A blood transfusion knocked him out a little bit, but he managed to put together part of a puzzle before conking out with a "please wake me for the fireworks" comment. He wouldn't take a walk (he hates that blasted pole) but he did a little bit of moving around the room and growling at me...combined with a smidge of flirting with the nurses, I'd say he's doing okay.
And yes, the day ended with fireworks. From the playroom on our floor, we could see the display from Milwaukee's lakefront. It was pretty amazing, especially since Sam doesn't really ever recall seeing a fireworks display before. That is actually entirely possible.
It was quite poignant, though. There were three bald kids, each with an IV pole, with nurses moving in and out and around. And there were three mamas....hovering near their kids. And all of us were discussing our home fireworks displays....and the fireworks at DisneyWorld...and there was that sigh from each of us...missing home, missing reality, missing our lives...I think it might be better that Sam doesn't remember what he's missing. I certainly do.
|One of the nurses needed a quick lights-on for an IV change...so I used the opportunity to snap a pic.|
May it be so...