The Day I Hurt Cody

I will never forget the day I had to hold Cody down.  He was a few months old and they were doing a milk scan to look at the severity of his reflux.

To do a milk scan they had to put an NG tube down his nose, and into his stomach.  They wanted to make sure that ALL the milk started off in his stomach, and that there was no milk in his esophagus.  This way,  if there was, they would know he was having reflux. The milk can be see by a nuclear scanning machine that is as big as a VW bus.



I don't remember why I was helping, but I remember a nurse asking me if I would help "hold him."  It seemed like a fine idea, he's my kid, it will probably be better for him if I am there.  In my mind he was on what can only be described as an alter. I doubt he was on an alter, but that is what my mind sees.  I remember I walked up to him and his big, dark, scared eyes looked at me.  He was wearing a hospital gown, footie hospital socks and he was calm, scared but calm.

I remember seeing her put some gooey stuff on the tube and then hold the tube in a "we're going in" position. Then she looked at me.  She said, "ok, hold him down, he's not going to like this."  I was like, ok, I can do this, he's little, I can help. And then I watched the tube enter his nose, and she began to feed the tube down     and down      and down.  All Cody could do was arch his back, gag, and flail his feet in protest and all I could do was MY JOB.  Hold him still, don't let him move, help the nurse do her job, check check check.


And it's in, he's ready to go. I helped. 


Now we just have to pray that he sleeps for an hour on this huge stone-like circle machine that is going to shoot God-knows-what nuclear medicine rays into his 3 month old body to look for spit up.  I just remember worrying that he would move or wake up or "be bad."  I didn't want to have to do it again, and that is what the doctors threaten you with, "we'll have to do it again." Ok, he'll sleep, I promise.


A part of me died that day.  A part of you dies when you hurt your kid, when you see your kids eyes begging you to save them, and all the while you are the one letting them hurt them.  You can't stay the same, you can't be the same when you let, allow, help, hold and hurt your kid.  I don't care if it is for a medical procedure or not, you die, a piece has to die.


All I was worried about was getting that tube in his stomach so they could do the procedure. All I was worried about was him staying still, sleeping, not having to do the procedure again. But after it is all said and done, all I worry about now is finding that nurse and slapping the crap out of her for letting me help.  How could you ask me to hold my son down while you shove a plastic tube down his throat with no sedation....nothing.  Why would you ask me to be a participant to his torture?

I've asked myself that question a hundred times.  What happens when you hurt a kid? What happens when he is tortured, poked, pricked, cut, abandoned, ignored, alone, cold and scared all in the name of medicine.   Why is there nothing for kids who go through "justifiable abuse?" 


It is abuse.  They are not immune to the pain, the fear, the torture. It isn't "all better" because there is a nurse there with Barney on her shirt and a stuffed animal in the crib, it is still pain.  Where is the help for that family, that baby, that kid? There is nothing. They do nothing. They ask you to hold down your kids while they torture them and then send you on your way to deal with the aftermath.


I can't take Emersyn to get shots now.  I was still in a haze with Skylar and just did it, but now I know, now I feel, now I can't do it.  I took her once by myself, and had a complete meltdown in my car afterwards.  I felt I'm letting them hurt her and telling her it's ok, and it's not.  I don't want her to think I am letting them do this to her. I don't want to be a part of hurting her, EVER. So now I make Jim go.  I know I am passing the buck, but I have self-diagnosed myself with post traumatic stress disorder, which I am sure I have.  It all floods back, it is like I am there again, helpless, holding, hurting, never again. I won't do it ever again..... until I have to.