my ma had a big brown van
and she would haul us everywhere in it
before the big brown van
she walked us all over town in the stroller..
me and my brother packed tight inside the stroller and my sister either walking beside ma, or sitting on the little ledge just under the handle, next to ma's purse.
she loved that van.
i remember she would pick up milo, whenever she saw him walking around town.. far from home.
milo.
just the name makes me smile.
we grew up just a few houses down from his sister. and he was a daily fixture in our lives.
milo always wore a trench coat. big guy.. aging.. slump-shouldered.. and limping a bit. used to walk my sister to school. kids would ask her. 'ewwwww.. did he offer you a moldy sandwich?' 'ewwwww.. aren't you scared of him?'
milo was harmless. ask him the high school football scores from 1968, 1952, 1979.. on any given date..who was on the team.. who was on the opposing team.. and he could rattle off the statistics without hesitation. amazing.
i was sad to hear he passed a couple years ago. they erected a facebook shrine for him. the things people said about this man.. so heartwarming. the best stories coming from my sister and others in our neighborhood who knew him best.
i can still hear his voice. the way he said my ma's name.. every time she would offer him a ride.
im trying to hear her voice. i dont know why.. i cant.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Two devoted brothers
Sharon's white fresh scrubbed kitchen reminds me of a foster care story. I'll get to it in a minute.
I worked as a child care giver in an institution that housed and cared for the more severely abused foster children. It was the Salvation Army Residence for children and we staffed 4 babies to a worker, or 6 toddlers to a worker. These were very challenging cases that were beyond the abilities of standard care that foster care parents gave in their home.
We received children after the hospital had treated their broken bones, their starvation, their burns, the cuts between their legs from blunt force trauma. We had a nurse on staff to help with the tubes and things.
It was tough duty and I learned so much about child abuse and the effects of trauma on the body and the soul. It got me ready and trained to take foster children into my home . I'll tell you later some of our little triumphs and successful interventions that made our hearts swell with a job well done.
But right now I want to introduce you to two little brothers that we had in our home. I've forgotten their names, and I don't know what happened to them, down the road. I can guess they made it out of their childhood alive, but I don't really know.
The toddler was 18 months old. He was the size of a 9 month old. He didn't walk and did a poor job of crawling. The preschooler was the size of a toddler. He was painfully thin and malnourished, wiry and stunted. The two of them had been starved for a long time. There had been no food in the house and the older one had done his best to feed the young one through his crib. They ate paint. They ate wallpaper. They ate what they could find. And they ate their own feces. They had been released from the hospital after just recovering from a bad case of shigella.
I needed a safe place for the older one to sleep. He hopped out of the bed and pushed things into his brothers crib, when no one was looking. He was trying to feed him, loose scraps. But the most worrisome thing he kept giving him was the contents of his own bowel movements. It got messy in our house.
I tried diverting him. In theory, one would think that tasty food, would be preferred to vile diaper droppings, but he has a compulsion to take care of his brother, the only way he had for so long. He got sneaky. I put them in separate rooms. They wailed for each other in the night. I stayed up and supervised them. They waited me out till I had dropped off to sleep in the chair to start their nightly raids.
Past the bowls of snacks. and fruit and easy to reach items put out for their comfort, he would sneak and raid the fridge for something familiar. I found the mayonnaise jar in the little one's crib, mostly empty, all four of the stove's burners lit, brown fingerprints on the fridge door and the older one sound asleep in his bed, with feces smeared on his hands. A good nights work and job well done. He was determined to take care of his little brother. A few weeks went by. The children had come back positive for severe lead poisoning. I would need to take them into the hospital outpatient for every day for weeks to get them chelated. I used a bus for transportation to go cross town and strolled them stuffed into one stoller the rest of the way. A very officious worker was sent out to test OUR place for lead, and I had to endure a scolding and lecture from the worker... Excuse me, they got poisoned at their last home, not here. Look at the time frame. He actually sniffed at my face.
It was inevitable, the older one spiked a very high fever, and started vomiting and passing liquid stools. I put on gloves. I had a blanket between him and me, when I rocked him. I wore a smock and was so careful. He was violently sick again from shigella dysentery. His body poured out the germs. Bacteria everywhere. Blood and oily stools. I tried to cope with it myself, but then the baby brother came down with it. I had to take them into the hospital and get them proper round the clock care. While they were there, they could get the lead poisoning treatment they needed, the fast way, via IV. And better yet, they had a crib with a top on it. steel bars that kept the two of them in at night. Safe and secure. Oh I wanted that crib for home.
Then I came down with shigella too. OMG I was so sick. I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die.
I lay on the floor of my bathroom and wept. I didn't really know which end to stick over the toilet. I shriveled to a lesser version of myself. And the pain... It went on for 6 weeks after that.
The health department got involved. My husband worked in food service and had to go down and give a stool sample. They said he couldn't be around that source of contagion and work at his job.
The hospital called... The children were due to be released. Oh no you don't. We are not going to pick those two up. They require round the clock supervision past our abilities.
Know your limits
I worked as a child care giver in an institution that housed and cared for the more severely abused foster children. It was the Salvation Army Residence for children and we staffed 4 babies to a worker, or 6 toddlers to a worker. These were very challenging cases that were beyond the abilities of standard care that foster care parents gave in their home.
We received children after the hospital had treated their broken bones, their starvation, their burns, the cuts between their legs from blunt force trauma. We had a nurse on staff to help with the tubes and things.
It was tough duty and I learned so much about child abuse and the effects of trauma on the body and the soul. It got me ready and trained to take foster children into my home . I'll tell you later some of our little triumphs and successful interventions that made our hearts swell with a job well done.
But right now I want to introduce you to two little brothers that we had in our home. I've forgotten their names, and I don't know what happened to them, down the road. I can guess they made it out of their childhood alive, but I don't really know.
The toddler was 18 months old. He was the size of a 9 month old. He didn't walk and did a poor job of crawling. The preschooler was the size of a toddler. He was painfully thin and malnourished, wiry and stunted. The two of them had been starved for a long time. There had been no food in the house and the older one had done his best to feed the young one through his crib. They ate paint. They ate wallpaper. They ate what they could find. And they ate their own feces. They had been released from the hospital after just recovering from a bad case of shigella.
I needed a safe place for the older one to sleep. He hopped out of the bed and pushed things into his brothers crib, when no one was looking. He was trying to feed him, loose scraps. But the most worrisome thing he kept giving him was the contents of his own bowel movements. It got messy in our house.
I tried diverting him. In theory, one would think that tasty food, would be preferred to vile diaper droppings, but he has a compulsion to take care of his brother, the only way he had for so long. He got sneaky. I put them in separate rooms. They wailed for each other in the night. I stayed up and supervised them. They waited me out till I had dropped off to sleep in the chair to start their nightly raids.
Past the bowls of snacks. and fruit and easy to reach items put out for their comfort, he would sneak and raid the fridge for something familiar. I found the mayonnaise jar in the little one's crib, mostly empty, all four of the stove's burners lit, brown fingerprints on the fridge door and the older one sound asleep in his bed, with feces smeared on his hands. A good nights work and job well done. He was determined to take care of his little brother. A few weeks went by. The children had come back positive for severe lead poisoning. I would need to take them into the hospital outpatient for every day for weeks to get them chelated. I used a bus for transportation to go cross town and strolled them stuffed into one stoller the rest of the way. A very officious worker was sent out to test OUR place for lead, and I had to endure a scolding and lecture from the worker... Excuse me, they got poisoned at their last home, not here. Look at the time frame. He actually sniffed at my face.
It was inevitable, the older one spiked a very high fever, and started vomiting and passing liquid stools. I put on gloves. I had a blanket between him and me, when I rocked him. I wore a smock and was so careful. He was violently sick again from shigella dysentery. His body poured out the germs. Bacteria everywhere. Blood and oily stools. I tried to cope with it myself, but then the baby brother came down with it. I had to take them into the hospital and get them proper round the clock care. While they were there, they could get the lead poisoning treatment they needed, the fast way, via IV. And better yet, they had a crib with a top on it. steel bars that kept the two of them in at night. Safe and secure. Oh I wanted that crib for home.
Then I came down with shigella too. OMG I was so sick. I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die.
I lay on the floor of my bathroom and wept. I didn't really know which end to stick over the toilet. I shriveled to a lesser version of myself. And the pain... It went on for 6 weeks after that.
The health department got involved. My husband worked in food service and had to go down and give a stool sample. They said he couldn't be around that source of contagion and work at his job.
The hospital called... The children were due to be released. Oh no you don't. We are not going to pick those two up. They require round the clock supervision past our abilities.
Know your limits
miss giggles
an amusing convo with my very giggly student..
'me and allie are talking again'
that's good. you two are so close, i am glad to hear you worked everything out.
'well, i wouldn't say that. we just started talking. do you watch The Voice?'
i am familiar with it. adam lavigne is pretty cool.
'omg! i love adam! we were watching The Voice on Monday, and he was telling a singer to lean forward and push out the sound, and that they would sound better.. and i thought.. omg, JC would haaaaaaaate him for saying that'
mhm
'and then allie says, if JC told me to do that, I would.. if it would make me sound better.. (she giggles) and i said, omg! i would jump off a bridge if JC told me to.. if it would make me sound better.. and she said, me too. (more giggles) and then i said, we could both jump off the bridge together and as we got closer to the bottom.. the scream would start to sound like an angelic 'ahhhh' (she demonstrates) and then when we come up out of the water.. we would automatically sing 'i can see clearly now...'(another demonstration followed by more giggles)'
ok, breathe.. (shaking my head and smiling) are you ready to sing?
'yesss'
a friendship salvaged.
i'm sure i will hear this story again today.. when i see the only slightly less giggly miss allie. (grins)
'me and allie are talking again'
that's good. you two are so close, i am glad to hear you worked everything out.
'well, i wouldn't say that. we just started talking. do you watch The Voice?'
i am familiar with it. adam lavigne is pretty cool.
'omg! i love adam! we were watching The Voice on Monday, and he was telling a singer to lean forward and push out the sound, and that they would sound better.. and i thought.. omg, JC would haaaaaaaate him for saying that'
mhm
'and then allie says, if JC told me to do that, I would.. if it would make me sound better.. (she giggles) and i said, omg! i would jump off a bridge if JC told me to.. if it would make me sound better.. and she said, me too. (more giggles) and then i said, we could both jump off the bridge together and as we got closer to the bottom.. the scream would start to sound like an angelic 'ahhhh' (she demonstrates) and then when we come up out of the water.. we would automatically sing 'i can see clearly now...'(another demonstration followed by more giggles)'
ok, breathe.. (shaking my head and smiling) are you ready to sing?
'yesss'
a friendship salvaged.
i'm sure i will hear this story again today.. when i see the only slightly less giggly miss allie. (grins)
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