By Janeil Whitworth
I’m no stranger to home IV antibiotics.
Actually, if I am being completely honest, I think we have gotten a little too friendly over the past decade or so. I prefer to do home IVs because I am one of those patients who goes a little nuts after being trapped in the hospital for too long. Seclusion and unlimited access to cable are not beneficial to my physical or mental well-being. I need the opportunity to be with people just as much as I need the comfort of my own bed to rest and heal completely. I’ve even gone as far as learning to access my own port-a-cath to create even further distance between the hospital and me. Plus, I enjoy the luxuries of home IVs such as creating my own schedule, eating my own food, using my own toilet paper, and coming and going as I please.
I’m positive I’m not the only one who struggles to release control over my disease while experiencing an exacerbation. Feeling the façade of freedom slipping away post-IV-talk, I involuntarily tighten my grip on my independence in a desperate attempt at normalcy.
In-patient admission? No way. Home IVs? Ok, I can do that. Thankfully, you can travel on home IVs, celebrate your bachelorette party on home IVs, and even graduate college on home IVs. But is it possible to successfully care for a 9-month-old baby on home IVs?
After the past few weeks of increased shortness of breath and unwavering fatigue, I agreed it was time for IVs. The reality of home IVs as a mom suddenly hit me as I exhaustedly said for the millionth time that day, “Please, don’t eat mommy’s IVs, buddy.”
I knew this was not going to be easy with a mobile, energetic baby crawling every which way, leaving a trail of alcohol pads in his path. (I think this might be the fatigue talking, but the crunchy hospital bed and one-ply toilet paper are starting to seem a little better right now.)
The last time I did home IVs, my son was 4 months old, so it made it a tad easier as he was just a chubby and adorable blob. I would set him down, hook myself up to the antibiotic-filled Eclipse ball, and he wouldn’t move. Those were the days.
There’s been very little rest this week, and admittedly, I tried my hardest to do it all even if I was feeling absolutely poisoned. In my defense, I felt my independence as a mom was slipping away once again, and the impulse to hold on tighter completely crept up on me. This way of thinking will not benefit me in the long run, neither as a mother, nor as a patient. A week has passed since I accessed my port to begin treatment, and I can see more clearly now that I am in desperate need of a different rhythm.
Finding a different rhythm
I am going to attempt to take my own advice for the remainder of treatment, including: 1) Ask for help; 2) Be easy on myself when it comes to everything else; 3) Remain grateful for the privilege of staying home. My normalcy in the coming weeks will look a little different. My parenting style will be altered as well. I need to accept that this is the price for staying home with my baby, while simultaneously being the nurse and patient. Everything needs to be taken in stride as I release my grasp and let the rest, antibiotics, and baby hugs heal me. I think this is the key to surviving home IVs with my health, sanity, and pride intact. I hope.
This blog was originally published on CF News Today.