For the past two weeks, my kids have been sick. My oldest got sick first, several days later my preschooler, and at the tail end, my youngest. Having sick kids, and several sick kids, is exhausting. As the days drag on and the nights of broken sleep, our family goes from minor changes in our schedule to the inevitable survival mode.
Entering survival mode, nothing gets organized. Laundry is often washed to clean the snot and vomit off of sheets and articles of clothing, but remains in baskets. We wear whatever is in our drawers whether it matches or not. Sometimes that means capri yoga pants in the middle of a winter wonderland and socks that are worn again and again after who knows how many days because I can at least find one for each foot somewhere on the floor.
Survival mode means that I have less time to cut up fruit and vegetables. I increase the smoothies I offer, letting the blender do the chopping into a beautiful puree that my kids will gulp down, even despite a sore throat. It means that our meals go from being easy to plan with a good variety to hardly any variety, yogurt pouches on repeat that are an easy grab and go option that provides protein and will also soothe a sore throat.
When we hit survival mode, bedtime is whenever we can get everyone to sleep. That might mean earlier than normal or it might mean holding a sick kid coughing in our faces until they finally pass out on our shoulder. Bath time is daily to wipe away crusty noses and eyes, clear matted down boogers from their hair, and have everyone going to bed at least smelling fresh. Unless of course one of them passes out early, then bath time is always tomorrow.
Our version of survival mode means my husband and I plan nothing for the next several weeks. Our already nonexistent social life, no longer filled with optimism over something maybe we could do with friends next weekend. We might forget to pay a bill and likely have no idea how much is in our checking account — hoping our budget keeps it afloat during this moment in time. We don’t make any plans for anything, who knows when we will be able to re-enter society again. Over the years, we’ve had many opportunities to practice isolating and then re-entering society with young children who spike fevers for days and then follow it with asthma flares and secondary infections that keep us home even longer.
Surviving means having a toddler who doesn’t want to be put down for a whole day, a whole day of wanting nothing but to be held. The beginning of that day starts with snuggles and ends with complete exhaustion. Rocking them to sleep one night when they don’t feel well also has the unintended consequence of somehow translating to — and any night thereafter. In one day my fifteen month old went from sitting in his high chair for the past nine months during meals to completely refusing to sit in it. He learned in one day he preferred to be held on my hip for meals and snacks, and it’s going to take far longer than one day to teach him to enjoy the independence of that high chair once again.
Since having more than one child, illness in our home also means, often having one sick kid and at least one that is full of energy, back at it with full speed — just now without their playmate. Tending to a sick child, we not only have more responsibilities but we also have a more rambunctious child that we need to find new ways to occupy his time. We have an energetic child who despite just recovering from an illness, is not aware of his sibling’s current state and makes multiple attempts at initiating play — often leading to more arguments and more opportunities for us to practice being referees. We are all cooped up inside breathing the same air. So, of course, survival mode also means we are sick too.
Swinging through survival mode means many phone calls — more than usual, especially now. Phone calls to urgent cares and doctor’s offices inquiring about testing for COVID, calls to schools to let them know my kids will be absent, followed by calls to nurses offices to make sure they have received the necessary paperwork so my kids can return when they are well. It’s interesting to me when someone says they multi-task at work too, as though it’s the same as multi-tasking as a parent at home. I’m fairly certain most adults don’t interrupt your phone calls unless it’s urgent, a toddler can be expected to interrupt your phone calls only when it’s not urgent. The survival mode of multi-tasking as a parent at home with sick kids is in my opinion, one of a kind.
And as any good narrator does when surviving, we record the whole process. Writing down when our kids spike fevers, the time meds were given, and ensuring we make note of their wet diapers or trips to the potty.
When I was training, I had to follow ins and outs, which meant the quantity of fluids the child I was caring for took in and how much urine the child was putting out. It was often recorded by either volume or in the case of a child who wasn’t potty trained, wet diapers. I remember once I got into outpatient practice and was no longer on the floors of a hospital, I would ask parents how many wet diapers their children had. Some knew and others would respond with “normal,” which I wasn’t always sure how to interpret but was mostly reassured by. But others wouldn’t really know. I now know exactly what those parents were experiencing. It’s so hard to recall the details when your kids are sick, especially when they have been sick for days, and more than one of them. It becomes a blur.
When I became a parent, I realized how quickly night after night your mind can forget which medication you gave at 2am. It was even harder to remember on day three of everyone being sick which kid got which medication. Add in two asthmatics and their need for treatments, their asthma flaring at different times throughout the night, and I quickly decided I needed pen and paper. I couldn’t even rely on an app on my phone because who knew where that was and if I did happen to know, it was probably playing “Baby Shark” to keep my toddler occupied during a breathing treatment. “Baby Shark” on repeat was an important resource for us when our kids were sick.
The days can be long and sometimes the details can be fuzzy. So I began documenting our survival modes for two reasons.
1. Often the diagnosis is within the details of the history. Many physicians would likely agree that a fair number of times, a diagnosis can be made with knowing the history alone. Certainly, a physical exam aids in the diagnosis many times but the point is, the history is also incredibly important. I have often wondered why parents aren’t given a hand out at the newborn visit and each yearly physical thereafter that lets families know what details are helpful for physicians to know when their kids are sick. The details that formulate the history of the present illness, often referred to as an HPI.
Most of the details seem like they would be easy to recall. However, remembering their past medical history in the emergency room during an acute illness or remembering how many diapers a child had especially, when an illness strikes during the holiday season, with three different kids, both parents sick, and during the middle of a pandemic — well, those details might get a bit fuzzy. So I write them down on our family scheduler in the kitchen, it’s stuck to our fridge with dry erase markers in the drawer next to it. That scheduler on our fridge is easily accessible and a place I am sure to frequent many times a day, alerting me when a dose is due or to remind me to write down the most recent one I gave. The only major flaw is when someone walks quickly past it and happens to wipe away part of it. But it generally works for us. I don’t need to know where my phone is all the time and I don’t need to make sure I remember that random piece of paper as I head out the door to a doctor’s appointment — I likely will have found my phone by then. I snap a photo and their histories are easily accessible. I know exactly when I gave each medication, when they had fevers, and how many wet diapers they had.
After several asthma exacerbations, I also realized how important it was for me to record when their asthma flared. I started a notebook for each of my kids where I recorded major medical interventions, when they had surgeries and why, their allergies, when their asthma flared, and more. I know most of this was in their official medical record, but I didn’t always call about every exacerbation or runny nose — that was back when a kid could have a mild cough and a mild runny nose and not always need a test for it. It has also been very helpful when bringing my kids to see specialists or when we travel — (back when we did that). I jot down notes from conversations with my children’s schools that are important, developmental concerns, and any symptoms that become chronic over time and may lead to a pattern that can be helpful in diagnosis and treatment, such as when my one of them was having headaches. Recording the pattern I could tell it was mostly after school, when my son didn’t drink much water during the day. The pattern was important, the note taking important.
It takes a minute or two but looking back, I have in my hands a history that can be incredibly important for any physician helping my child. I don’t have to rely on my memory. It also helpful for my husband who isn’t as involved in the details when our kids are sick and who doesn’t attend every doctor’s appointment, he’s usually working. It is a resource for him though if ever in the future he needs to take one of our kids and I’m not able to. And anyone else watching them for that matter.
2. The second reason I record all of these details on a white board on my fridge is to remind myself to… cut me some slack. That white board on any other “normal” week would be filled with reminders about whether my son is buying or bringing, birthday reminders, important activities, and whether my kid’s need to bring something special to school. We have a master schedule on our phones but the reminders on our fridge are the random things about the week that you need to remember, like the day the library book is due.
But when we hit survival mode, that schedule becomes their medical flow sheet. I record medications, temperatures, and wet diapers — color coding based on their favorite colors which lets my brain quickly connect which kid I’m referring to.
That flow sheet shows me we are in survival mode. I’m going to drop a ball or two…or even three. I’m not going to exercise as much, even though I probably need it. My jeans might get tighter, we might all eat a lot more of foods we typically eat in moderation, and I am going to be entirely grateful for Daniel Tiger episodes on repeat. That flow sheet reminds me that as I was counting wet diapers, I was also pushing fluids. I was holding a child trying to get one of them to drink something, trying different fluids, and perhaps holding it for them with a straw, instead of just handing over a cup and moving on with our day. I was spoon feeding my toddler again, instead of just chopping finger foods. I was finding soft foods that would soothe a sore throat, instead of just putting a sandwich and an apple on the table for my older two. I was monitoring breathing after giving an inhaler. I was holding a toddler who didn’t want to be put down. I was comforting a preschooler who was scared he couldn’t catch his breath. I was hugging a school aged child who wondered how many more days would he feel like this?
I wasn’t remembering the library books that needed to be returned. I was a mom with sick kids in survival mode. I didn’t actually drop the ball on anything, it could all wait. I put the priority on my kids’ health. The notes I jotted down on our scheduler was what I did that week. It was perhaps, my most productive week in months. I accomplished so much that week, caring for my kids, helping them to get healthy. I made a career out of taking care of kids, and I still am today.
And fortunately, this week will pass. It might bleed into the next week, but very likely, it will all pass.
But if I am incredibly lucky, when I open that fridge with a medical flowsheet on the front, it will have a dish with a meal inside waiting to be heated by someone who knows we needed it. Not because we couldn’t have found something to eat, not because we couldn’t have ordered take out, but because we needed a break.
Parents need support, especially when they have sick kids. It’s not a luxury to be afforded to those who can pay to have someone come in and help. It is a critical need. There is no post-call day when kids are sick. Looking at that flowsheet, I can see that I was the one giving medications to kids at 4am and the one giving more throughout the next day. I was changing those wet diapers.
We need better policies for parents that have sick kids, like ones that account for the days kids are actually sick, not that take into account the average days an adult is sick. We need more policies for parents but right now, parents need help. They need their village.
One important thing we can take from this pandemic is yes, we have to keep one another healthy. But we generally know how to do that — masks, vaccines, hand-washing, and distancing. What many parents need now though is support.
Parents, share this article with someone you know and love who can help the next time your kids are sick. Contactless ways to help can be dropping off a casserole at the door. It can be picking up the groceries you ordered and dropping them off at the door, saving you a few bucks on delivery. It can be meal planning for you, offering quick and easy ideas that your family can put together, bonus if they shop for the items and leave them at the door. It can be offering to pick up a prescription or sick supplies. It can be ordering takeout from several states away, letting them know you are thinking of them.
If a family isn’t in isolation or quarantine from their illness, other ways to help without much contact include putting on a mask and coming in to help put away their clean dishes or fold their clean laundry. Run the vacuum, walk the dog, or watch a healthy child ride his/her bike outside.
Other family members or friends might feel more comfortable if they aren’t at high risk for disease, rolling up their sleeves and offering more help with childcare and other household tasks.
Parents today are raising the kids who will become the healthcare workers caring for all of us in the future. The teachers who will educate, the law enforcement who will protect, and the leaders who will lead. Help them now, so they can help you later.
The kicker for me today was my kids slept the whole night but I was up three times. I hadn’t recovered yet from someone needing me throughout the night and I woke up wondering if everyone was ok. They are.
Well done Mamma P., you all got through this one. And you will sleep well tonight, that is for sure.
While I hope you enjoy reading my posts, kindly be advised that the words in this article are not medical advice and I cannot guarantee that they will work for you or your family. They are my reflections on parenting my three boys, based on my own personal background and experiences. Always reach out to your own health professionals for any questions or concerns. Please read my full disclosure at the bottom of this site for more information. Very sincerely, Mamma P.
