A Candid Discussion About Chicago Children’s Hospitals
My baby son was sick and spent nearly three weeks in the hospital this year. Three weeks.
Three weeks in the hospital is a big deal for a grown person, let alone a 12-month-old baby who lost nearly five pounds after catching a virus that seemed determined to permanently injure him. We all thought it was a basic virus. But then the vomiting and diarrhea wouldn’t stop, and he stopped eating and drinking. It went downhill from there and got pretty scary before it got slightly better. Slightly better led to good enough to go home, provided we had weekly nurse visits and a feeding tube installed. Weight gain is going great, and after a few sessions of speech therapy and physical therapy to help him re-learn how to chew and swallow, we were able to remove the tube.
My closest friends – and plenty strangers – prayed fiercely for my baby. And for that I thank them. This kid is resilient, happy, healthy and smart. But now that the most immediate crisis is over, can we talk for a moment about our children’s hospitals?