> Do any of you have any tips on how you've helped children cope with having
a
> parent with TM? When my husband is having a bad day, our 8-year-old
doesn't
> want to go to school and can't concentrate on anything. Our 4-year-old
gets
> really angry when his dad is sick.
>
> Thanks for your ideas.
>
> Carolyn
Carolyn,
I'm sending a copy of a note I posted previously on the list (Mar. 31)
discussing how my children responded to my TM. I would encourage you to just
talk with them -- whether in a formal sit-down-across-the-table time or in a
more casual setting, like while driving somewhere. Ask them openly how they
feel about it, if they are afraid, and why. I think the freedom to unburden
themselves in that way will help a lot. I'm wondering if perhaps your 8 year
old is afraid his dad is going to die and if that's why he doesn't want to
leave when his dad isn't feeling well.
If so, while we can't give any guarantees, you can encourage him that it
doesn't seem that people usually die from TM. The major problem seems to be
learning how to live with it. The children may be grieving for the loss of
"the way things used to be" or they may just be afraid of the unknown. Just
be honest with them. Hopefully, in time, they will learn to adapt to this new
level of what is now normal for your family and learn to take one day at a
time.
Also -- this one is hard -- in the stress and fear and adaptations that
you and your husband are going through, try to still take time for "the
little things" with them, so they don't feel pushed aside, and try not to be
short with them -- all too easy to do when you're under stress or
preoccupied.
Wishing you all the best,
Barbara
My children, all boys, were 11, 8, and almost 2 when TM struck me. They
were home when it happened, over a course of four or so hours progressing
from a numb hand to not being able to walk without hanging on (literally) to
my husband. They seemed fairly calm -- I don't know if they knew exactly
what was going on (we didn't either for that matter.) They rode with us up to
the emergency room and stayed til a friend came to pick them up. Talking with
my oldest son just today, he said he was really scared and was concerned that
I was going to die. My next oldest son said something similar. I know that
first week when I was in the hospital was rough on them. My husband brought
them up often, but they had to stay with others a lot. We don't have family
in the area, and we didn't know many of our neighbors, so a lot of folks from
church helped a lot. But that meant they were at different people's houses
all through the week A friend told me that once my youngest just out of the
blue started crying and crying. She just held him a while. Poor guy -- his
whole world and routine was disrupted! I was also disconcerted to hear of his
calling someone else "mama", but our pastor mentioned that that was probably
the only name he called an adult lady, since I'm a stay-at-home mom, so that
encouraged me. My middle son's Sunday School lesson just a few days after I
went in the hospital was on Romans 8:28: "All things work together for good
to them that love the Lord, to them who are the called according to His
purpose." He really got ahold of that message and was encouraging his older
brother with it -- it was so neat to see the Lord minister to him in that
way.
Once I got home, everyone seemed to be fine -- it didn't seem to bother
any of them that I was using a walker or anything. I was often confined to my
room at first because we have a split-level house and I couldn't get down the
stairs without my husband's support, and often the kids would come up and
talk. In fact, I remember that being a blessing -- I couldn't get dinner, do
housework, etc., so there was more time to just listen and talk and interact
with them individually. They had more responsibilities around the house, but
they didn't complain *too* much. :-) I was able to have physical therapy at
home for three months, and they often were right there watching and asking
questions. The therapist was a mom and didn't seem to mind and was great with
them. I think that was helpful to them rather than having me have to go out
for that -- helped them feel part of the process and understand what was
going on. Overall the disability part of it doesn't seem to bother them -- of
course, now I'm "functioning" almost normally although I have days when I'm
in pain or irritable because I'm distracted with my symptoms -- it might be a
different story if I were more disabled; I don't know. The only affect it has
on them directly is that I'm not always up to doing what they want or going
where they want when they want. But overall They seem satisfied with me in
whatever shape I am, as long as I'm home.:-)
I felt particularly sorry for my husband during those first weeks. He
used up his vacation days the first week. He wasn't allowed to use sick days
to take off for a family member, only for himself. So he was going to have to
make up the time he was missing or not get paid (which we couldn't afford).
His company was great about working with him. But he had the pressure of
that, the stress of my situation and all the unknowns, the stress of tending
to the kids, getting meals, getting laundry done, getting the kids to
babysitters sometimes so he could visit me alone (we lived 45 min. from the
hospital and the various people who watched the kids were scattered in all
directions, so he had a lot of running around), etc., etc. We were also into
our second year of homeschooling, so he also did that for about two weeks
(that actually was a plus, because he saw some of the things I dealt with and
we were able to discuss better ways to do things, plus he has an inventive,
creative mind and a wonderful sense of humor; the kids have some fond
memories of classes those weeks!) But we also had to wonder if we would have
to do something different for school if my condition didn't change, so there
was that pressure. People from church overloaded us with food, and one or two
came over to clean bathrooms and such, and lots of them watched the kids; and
a teen-age girl came over several afternoons to help with the kids and get
whatever I needed so my husband could get go some hours in at work. It was
stressful, and I wouldn't want to do it again, but with caring friends and
faith and prayer and humor, we survived (are surviving).
Barbara