Lessons from the PICU
January 5, 2010
AJ & Dr. Jon who was instrumental in saving AJ's life
My son came home with a runny nose and scratchy throat on a Friday in late September. After two trips to the ER over the weekend, he was admitted to The Children’s Hospital in Denver on Monday, and by Wednesday morning he was on life support (heart-lung bypass and a ventilator) with multi-system organ failure. All from severe complications caused by H1N1. It wasn’t until we were through the worst part of the crisis that my husband and I realized (or allowed ourselves to consider) just how close we were to losing him.
Fast forward to today: AJ is a healthy, normal, funny and often schizophrenic now-6-year-old. In fact if you didn’t know our story, you would be hard-pressed to believe it when see him now.
A few simple but hopefully provoking ideas have shaped my experience over the past three plus months. I hope that what I learned through near personal tragedy provides some inspiration and offers perspective on the truly important things on which to focus in 2010.
Life Lessons from the PICU
Waiting is not your enemy. Time is your friend. Time heals. Patience is not a virtue. It must be learned, intentionally practiced and consciously applied.
Always accept support in all its forms from others. If nothing else, it relieves the helplessness they feel. You might get something out of it, too.
Hug. Every chance you get. A hug will soften even the most seemingly gruff personality, and those are the ones who probably need one most. If you’re not a hugger, then at least learn to touch someone on their arm or shoulder.
Focus on the good. Of each day. Every situation. And always look for the good in others.
Care like no one is watching. No matter how uncomfortable you may feel in saying the words, suck it up and say “I love you” to your family and friends. At work, give genuine praise when work is done well and be a “coach” when it’s not.
If you need a good cry, let ‘er rip. Holding it in is not good for your health, both emotional and physical.
Do what you do best. Collaborate on the rest. Delegate. Find partners. You are not and cannot be an expert on ALL things. And no one expects you to be. Rely on the strengths, knowledge, skills of others. In the end, the results will always, always, always be better than if you tried to go it alone.
Find something to laugh about every day. Especially yourself.
Give it up to a higher power. Truly when it all just seems like it’s too much to bear, give it up to God…your Creator… the Universe… Buddha… Nature… whatever you call Your Higher Power. Embrace your spiritual source and give over your worries, anxieties and fears. Believe things will work out for the best and ask everyone around you to believe it with all their hearts, minds and souls.
Believe that miracles will happen. ‘Nough said.
Comments
4 Responses to “Lessons from the PICU”
Got something to say?
Your unflapable strenghth truely amazes me. You are an inspiration. I am so glad that I know you.
so true. i have had some professional experience with Denver Childrens and it reconfirms my belif of what a truly special place it is.
PAX
Gordon Neufeld
Thank you for this posting and inspiration. My mother died in November after a year of illness. My 2 sisters and I weathered the loss thus far using many of the “Lessons” that you list. I can’t think of any that you missed with your list and my favorite is “Care like no one is watching”. I’ll be watching to see if others add to this most wonderful list.
Thanks again
Meredith - Than you for sharig your life-altering experience. I am pleased that TCH was a life-saving team and that your son has returned to his robust daily activities!
Adam