Learning to love at a critical time
By Cyril Manning
Born nearly three months premature and weighing just 480 grams„barely
more than a pound„Kathryn was small even for her birth age. She
was born blue, with several defects in her immature heart and a
list of respiratory and digestive complications. A month into her
critical care and still so small she could be cupped in a pair of
hands, she was receiving six different IV drips, was wired to an
array of monitors and was being fed through a tube in her nose.
Her parents imagined that the only reason they would be allowed
to hold their fragile daughter would be to say goodbye.
But Kathryn wasn't dying„as it would turn out, she had a long,
complicated and largely unpredictable struggle for life ahead of
her. Kathryn's team of care providers in the Neonatal Intensive
Care Unit (NICU) at Children's Hospital Boston were taking steps
to care not just for the sick child, but for her whole family. Allowing
Krista and her husband Rick to hold her was the first step in helping
them become the attached and involved parents they would have been
under more normal circumstances.
"We really want parents to get involved in any way they can,"
says Jennifer Bilak, RN, the nurse who helped the couple take that
early step toward bonding. "Even if it's in small ways, like
taking their child's temperature or changing a diaper, parental
involvement is important." After some initial anxiety, Rick
and Krista quickly warmed up to holding their child. Now, says Bilak,
"they know everything about Kathryn's condition and every aspect
of her care. I've never known parents who've been more involved."
Although it is no quick or easy task, one of the most crucial aspects
of neonatal nursing is helping parents to be parents in spite of
the extraordinary hardship of critical illness„or, as Christine
Mitchell, RN, Children's ethicist and a frequent advisor on complex
NICU cases, puts it: "Helping parents learn to love an imperfect
child." The staff is always careful, however, to provide information
and guidance day by day and not overwhelm parents with too much,
too fast. For many parents who are just coming to terms with their
child's illness, the intensive care environment is already overwhelming.
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The NICU is a large, softly lit room with four U-shaped bays of cribs
and enclosed isolation beds„each with a rocking chair and a computer
system on a rolling cart. In some bed spaces, infant patients lie
on raised, mechanical platforms underneath radiant heat lamps that
keep their temperatures steady. Other newborns are connected to ventilators
or positive-pressure airway devices that resemble large, robotic arms.
Every machine and monitor has a dizzying array of digital readouts,
and one alarm or another always seems to be chirping or beeping. Each
bedside is attended by at least one nurse; some are joined by vigilant
parents; and others are buzzing with physicians, respiratory care
therapists or other specialized care providers.
The dual roles of caring for each child and educating that child's
family require a level of nursing expertise that is difficult to
overstate. The 20-bed unit is a tertiary referral center for the
region, which means that the most complex newborn cases from New
England (and increasingly from beyond) get sent to Children's for
highly technical, specialized care. In addition to premature infants,
there are babies who suffer a wide variety of problems requiring
surgery. Some are followed prenatally by Children's Advanced
Fetal Care Center and transferred to the NICU after birth; others
come to the NICU to grow strong enough for heart-lung bypass, neurosurgery
or other sophisticated procedures available at Children's. Because
the hospital offers so many specialized care services, the 85 nurses
who work in the NICU see just about every type of neonatal problem
possible.
The complexity of Kathryn Cappuccio's case owes to her "micro-preemie"
size. After the first month of her critical care, she continued
to present doctors and nurses thorny problems related to her underdeveloped
heart, lungs and digestive system. Children's cardiologists developed
strategies to deal with the holes in her tiny heart and the dangerous
narrowing of her aorta, while the NICU staff worked to help her
grow, maintain her respiration and manage every complication that
came up along the way. "Kathryn is difficult," says her
mother. "She never does anything anyone expects her to do.
But still, nothing she can throw at the nursing staff throws them
for a loop."
This level of expertise is expected of nurses in the NICU. Patty
Hickey, RN, vice president of Cardiovascular Nursing and Critical
Care, explains: "An expert nurse recognizes patterns and trends
in a child's health. She can look at a patient and integrate the
diagnostics and the numbers with what she knows about the child
from the personal experience of being at the bedside every day."
According to NICU pediatrician Karen Levine, MD, that kind of expertise
is typical of NICU nurses' collaborative working relationship with
doctors on the unit. "Because the nurses have constant contact
with the patients, we rely heavily on them for information,"
she says. "This goes beyond more obvious indicators, like how
much oxygen they are absorbing, to more subtle signs, such as changes
in abdominal girth or decreased bowel sounds."
Karen Stebbins, RN, who came to Children's NICU in 1991 after four
years in cardiac intensive care nursing, is a senior nurse who gives
advice, mentorship, guidance and clinical expertise to teams of three
to five other nurses, who in turn provide continuous bedside care
to patients. Stebbins explains the expertise that goes into NICU nursing
with an example from Kathryn's care: One day, when Kathryn was very
unstable and her heartbeat was irregular, one of the younger nurses
on the team was coming on shift to care for her through the night.
The two of us spent hours going over Kathryn's specific issues from
the day. We pored over her EKGs and talked about specific indicators
to watch out for." With an attending cardiologist and a staff
pediatrician, Stebbins developed several plans for Kathryn's care
based on possible changes in her condition, an important step, says
Stebbins, because "We didn't get caught up focusing on the irregular
heartbeat itself. Instead we thought proactively about the big picture„for
example, how her changing condition would affect her eating and breathing."
According to ethicist Christine Mitchell, that big picture isn't
limited to the child's medical condition. "Nurses are expected
to participate in the clinical evaluation and diagnosis of the whole
child," she explains. "Not just the illness, but also
what that illness means to the child's life and to the family."
This whole-family approach was central to the care Beth and Eric
Orifice received in the NICU when their son Eric was born four months
premature with heart and lung issues similar to Kathryn Cappuccio's.
He was so sick that staff at the hospital where he was born advised
his parents not to try to save him„but Beth and Eric weren't ready
to give up, so they came to Children's. "The nurses always
let us know what was going on and what they would do depending on
changes in his situation," says Beth. They would say ïhe's
doing what we expect him to be doing,' which was reassuring without
raising my hopes too much." Most important, Beth says, "They
educated us slowly and didn't overwhelm us with everything we needed
to know right away." Toward the end of their stay, Eric suffered
bleeding on his brain, an uncommon complication in preemies that
required the NICU staff to call in specialists from Children's neurology
team. "Karen Stebbins stayed with us as we met with the neurologists,
and stayed with us after that conversation to make sure we understood
everything that was going on." When the parents returned to
the NICU, half a dozen nurses came over to reassure them, and then
left them to have some time alone. "They knew exactly when
to jump in, and knew exactly when to back off," says Beth.
In addition to all of their clinical care, the nursing staff was
equally attentive to the Orifices' needs as a family, particularly
their daughter Alyssa, who celebrated her second birthday while
her baby brother was in the hospital. "At first we didn't know
what to tell Alyssa about Eric," says Beth. "We thought
about not telling her about her brother at all, because how do you
tell a 2-year-old that her baby brother might die?" The nursing
staff advised them not to hide anything from Alyssa, and to simply
explain that because her baby brother was a little bit small, they
were going to take care of him at the hospital for a while. "We
were concerned about bringing her into the hospital, but the nurses
were right: she didn't see the tubes and wires, she just saw a baby.
And while we were there, the nurses helped her color and took her
for walks." Today the whole family is doing well.
Informing and educating parents, says Stebbins, is a key component
to successful nursing. "Since having my own kids, I approach
this job in a different way," she says. Nine years ago, Stebbins'
first daughter needed intensive care as a newborn. "I can really
empathize with how overwhelming this place and this experience can
be. Every parent has an image of what their child's birth is going
to be like: mom is going to give birth and hold the baby on her
chest and everything will be great. When that doesn't happen, parents
go through a huge amount of grief." NICU nurses must help parents
get through that grief, says Stebbins, so that they can reclaim
their role as a parent in spite of everything.
For Krista and Rick Cappuccio, who on April 23 brought their daughter
home from the hospital for the first time, the information, support
and care they received helped them through more than four exhausting
months of uncertainty. "In the very beginning, it was hard
to even look at Kathryn," says Krista. "But then one of
the nurses said to us, ïIf she dies, do you want to have never known
her?' That's when we started to take it day by day. We started to
feel comfortable touching her and changing her diaper. We started
taking care of her."
To support the NICU's clinical care or research
programs, contact
Joan Romanition in the Children's
Hospital Trust at (617) 355-2429 or joan.romanition@chtrust.org
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