Sunday, August 14, 2016

Still plagued by pressure sores, C. graduates

The inflatable mattress overlay I mention in the post. The cylinder
on the right is both container and pump.

The pressure sores are sprouting like mushrooms after a rainstorm. I now spend 40 minutes daily re-bandaging six of them, with one a double header. Every small sore  blossoms into a whopper.

So I finally contacted the pressure-sore expert whom our pediatrician had recommended (yes, at 21, C. is still in his care; more on that later).

He was very responsive, requested photos of the sores, ordered fresh blood tests along with a visit by an occupational therapist in order to have C.'s sleeping and sitting equipment evaluated.

While in waiting mode, the Hubby took C.'s malfunctioning air mattress to our equipment lending center for replacement. He was told that it was actually a useless model and we were upgraded to the inflatable mattress overlay in the photo above (from here).

We were also told by the expert there that we must limit C.'s time in her wheelchair. She should  be seated only for meals, spending the rest of the day either lying, standing in a stander or sprawled in a bean bag. Live and learn.

But until we can get that new equipment, she still sits quite a lot in her wheelchair.

Today, still awaiting a response from that kind pressure sore doctor re the photos and blood results, I called his clinic. Lo and behold, the kind doctor has disappeared on an overseas vacation that will last until the end of the month but didn't bother to share that with me five days ago.

So I made an appointment with his substitute for this week and will update afterwards

Along with the pressure sores, we have embarked on life with C. at home all day. Here she is last Thursday at the end of her final day of school:
C. on her last day of school

Many people we know - good, well-intentioned folks, some close friends others staffers at C.'s school - have asked us why we aren't putting her into an institution and they all specify one. It's actually a chain of large, closed institutions scattered throughout this country that is highly regarded by the general public and lavishly funded by our government. I've grown weary of delivering my anti-institutionalization lecture. So sometimes I just say "no" and skip the explanation.

It's getting tiresome and infuriating. I mean, when will this society get it? A child isn't somebody you evict and dump on strangers because the going got rough.

Just a year ago, our major concern with C. was the intense summer heat and dehydration which landed her in the ER overnight. Ah, for the good ol' days.

And on a positive note, here's a tour of a stunning playground designed to cater to the needs of children with severe disabilities: Perhaps we can all use this as a model for a neighborhood playground that our children could enjoy.

2 comments:

Elizabeth said...

I hate hearing about C's pressure sores and am relieved that "they" are trying to get to the bottom of the situation! I'm with you on the institutionalization problem -- although I do know a few people who have had to find alternative care for their children and believe it's an intensely personal decision. Like you, I HATE when people ask me whether I'd consider putting Sophie into a home. I usually tell them that at present, I don't consider that an option for ANY of my children. And that playground is fantastic! We have several accessible playgrounds here in Los Angeles, but they're for much smaller children. I just loved what they did in Israel and shared it on my Facebook page.

The Sound of the Silent said...

I love the answer you give people who ask whether you'd put Sophie in an institution; I'm going to try it out on the next person who makes that suggestion to me.

Here's hoping we get playgrounds like that awesome one for our girls really soon. (Another little project to add to our meager to-do list)

And as for the pressure sores, our kind nurse tells us they can hang around for years. In any case, we'll be wiser tomorrow after our visit to the wound specialist.