Change.
It's hard to quantify how many things change when a child is diagnosed with cancer. It's safe to say that all the change they experience is devastating to their world physically, socially, and emotionally. So it's understandable that these children would have difficulty accepting any more new changes to their bodies, their emotions, and their social sphere... and yet, that's what they are asked to do. Constantly.
Each new person entering their hospital room is there to help them on their journey. Each new medication, routine, and habit is aimed at curing them and minimizing the hold that cancer has on them. So the challenge for each of us on the care team is to help each child incorporate all these "new things" into their world. My friends in Child Life are particularly good at this, as they help all of their fellow team members search for ways to translate the myriad changes into the language of childhood-- where physical activity becomes hopeful adventures.
This was on my mind when I met a new patient, recently. Asking that patient to attempt some physical activity when so many new and unknown elements had entered their world seemed like a pretty lofty goal. Reframing the activities we had to do as an "adventure" seemed to help. After all, in an adventure "you don't really know what's going to happen, but that can also be part of the fun."
"Whatever age we are, adventures are important." I gently spoke to this patient. And, as we talked, I realized that I need to be a better example of this in my own life... hence this video.
Dear Patient, if you happen to see this video, I did it. Pillow strapped to my bee-hind and all (as we discussed). I can now ride a RipStik. 😁
With Undefeated Hope and a pillow strapped to my backside,
PT Dan