Issue link: https://www.massageandbodyworkdigital.com/i/1174218
Ta k e 5 a n d t r y A B M P F i v e - M i n u t e M u s c l e s a t w w w. a b m p . c o m / f i v e - m i n u t e - m u s c l e s . 55 And that's what these patients need most—to be seen and heard. According to Marcia Levetown and the Committee on Bioethics, "Communication is the most common 'procedure' in medicine. [It] is the foundation of the therapeutic relationship." 2 No one likes to be treated "like a child," not even children—and especially not hospitalized children. Like healthy kids, sick kids enjoy silliness and play. They enjoy a funny face or a fart joke as much as the next person. But "silly" and "condescending" are not the same thing. Being young does not mean you don't know about your environment, about the people around you, about your own body. Being young doesn't mean you don't have opinions. It doesn't mean you are invisible. Young people, even children, can participate in their own care. He has had serious gastrointestinal and breathing issues related to cystic fibrosis that have required periods of hospitalization since he was born. This most recent admission is for pancreatitis. Adam is friendly and easygoing. He has excellent manners and he loves massage. My "Hi, Adam. Would you like a massage today?" is always greeted by an enthusiastic, "Yes, please!" He drops what he's doing and hurls himself, prone, onto his bed. He places the pillow over his head "for dark and calm." When the session is over, he pops up and says, "Thank you very much! Have a good day." Adam is small. He looks like he is 6, not 10, but if you speak to Adam like he's 6, things will not go well. I have been in the room when another provider entered, placed her hands on her knees and squatted next to Adam. "A-da-am," she sing-songed, "You have to eat more yummy food. Your nurse said you're not drinking your milkshakes." She waggled a bottle of Ensure (not a milkshake) in his face. "I need you to drink all of this milkshake before your nurse comes back or she'll be sad, OK?" Adam stared at her in stony silence. She gave me an exaggerated conspiratorial wink and then left the room. Adam pushed the bottle of Ensure onto the floor. A week later I was in Adam's room when a different provider came in. "Hey, Adam," she said casually, "How are you doing? I don't want to interrupt your massage, but it looks like you didn't eat a lot of your breakfast today. I need you to drink at least half of one of those Ensures. What do you think?" Adam sighed and nodded noncommittally. "Is there a different flavor I can get for you that's better than the chocolate one?" the provider asked. "No," he said, "The chocolate is OK. Thank you." She left the room. Adam took a sip of the Ensure and grimaced. "Is that stuff gross?" I asked. "Yeah, but it's OK. She knows how to ask like I'm a person." 1 Whose Massage Is This Anyway? Maya is happy to see the massage therapist because she's another source of entertainment. Maya's mom is happy to see the massage therapist because sometimes Maya falls asleep during her massage. Maya is 2. She has leukemia. She is a robust kid who, despite intense chemotherapy and several serious infections, is very active and alert. Maya is a grabber and what we jokingly call "a flight risk." Maya wants out of her crib. IVs, tubes, telemetry lines, oxygen monitors, and blood pressure cuffs cannot hold her back. She wants to hold anything she sees. She wants to figure out how to snap her fingers and how to blow a raspberry. What she does not want is to rest. Adam is 10 years old.