Crouse
Hospital
Attn:
Patient & Guest Relations
736
Irving Avenue
Syracuse,
NY13210
Dear
members of the Crouse Hospital staff and administration,
I
am writing to share with you my family’s experience in your NICU,
from November 2, 2011 through November 7, 2011, in the hopes that an
atmosphere of compassion may be seen as all-important and be placed
by each employee in your facility as highly as the standard of
healthcare you provide. They rank equally in any parent’s mind and
should be given equal attention to maintain a professional,
family-friendly institution that focuses on the personal health and
well-being of each individual who comes through your doors seeking
care.
Here
is the story of our six days within your walls:
Just
over a year ago, I gave birth to our third daughter, Ella. When she
was born one of her lungs was not working. After a few hours in an
oxygen tank in our local hospital, both lungs were working properly
and we were allowed to take her to our room where we could hold her
and share her with our family. Eight hours later our doctor came to
us and suggested that we go to Crouse for further testing on Ella’s
lungs. We were hesitant, but were reassured by Crouse’s staff that
our daughter would be quickly released once testing was complete.
They also assured us that no
decisions would be made regarding Ella without our consent, as we
were not allowed to ride in the ambulance with her.
Upon
our arrival at Crouse it was very clear that our rights as parents
were compromised. She already had an IV in that had "sugar
water with electrolytes"
in it, as the nurses told me, and an IV of antibiotics. Why were
these being injected into my daughter before there was any sign of
infection? We were furious, to say the least. The next six days of
our lives went from bad to worse. That first evening I stayed in a
local hotel to rest and recover from the birth while my husband
stayed by our daughter's side through the night. He overheard many
conversations with some
not-so-professional nursing staff who spent the evening talking about
dead babies and arguing over who had held the most.
Ella
was in an oxygen tank for the first couple days, she was reading
between a 96 and 99 most of the time. When she dropped below a 96 the
bells would go off and the nurses would say, "She's
leaving us, you might as well just walk away now. Save yourselves the
torture."
Are
you kidding me?
Do
people really just walk away?
Around day four we were told that A.) the oxygen sensor is inaccurate
and B.) these numbers are perfectly normal for a full
term baby.
Ella was full term, actually a week overdue! Why was this never
taken into consideration? We were also told she would never be able
to hold her own body heat. She
had no trouble maintaining her body heat on her own.
Your
staff refused to let us hold our daughter and scared and threatened
us with their uncompassionate remarks.
Whenever
the hear rate monitor would drop we would rush to Ella’s side and
pick her up to stimulate her while the staff gave us looks of pity
and more remarks about this being “her
last
breath,
prepare to say goodbye.”
Later one knowledgeable staff member told us that for
a full
term
baby in deep sleep, a dropping heart rate is perfectly normal; it was
nothing to worry about.
At this point we were very well aware that your staff was very
insensitive, enjoyed scaring people, was not very educated as to
interpretation of the monitors, and did not take each individual case
into consideration. There were a couple times Ella had supposed apnea
spells, but it likely wasn’t apnea only the dropping of these
normal
numbers.
We
will never know for sure, but I pray no one will ever have to know
the unsettling feeling of leaving their newborn in a facility of
people where not only do they think her life should have been
terminated but that her life is not worth living and that it's still
not too late to terminate it.
In
many ways Ella was treated like a preemie, which she was not. She was
only allowed diaper changes every three hours. She was clearly
irritable while lying in a wet diaper for hours on end. She was not
even allowed to eat! On Friday (day 3), after the morning rounds, we
came in to find Ella clothed and wrapped in a blanket, unplugged and
in a regular bassinet. It was at this time that Dr. Bifano came to us
with Ella's diagnosis. She had Trisomy 18, a rare chromosomal
disorder. While telling us she stated that most of these babies are
aborted and it was not to late for us to choose termination as this
child would not live long and she would live a life of suffering. We
were told she would probably have all sorts of internal problems, but
no hospital would be willing to do surgery as she was labeled
terminal at this point. She ended by saying that we were going to get
linked up with hospice so that we could “leave
and go home, where she would pass, if she
didn't
do so sooner.”
We were baffled that a Dr. delivered this sort of news with the
phrase, "It's
not too late to choose termination."
A
loving parent couldn’t just walk away.
Never
once were we offered any sort of comfort or any chance to speak with
a professional to help with our grieving over the terminal diagnosis
of Ella.
Finally
that evening we had a nurse, Helen, who was willing to let us care
for our daughter. Her motivation was that she also believed that Ella
was not going to be going home with us, but it worked to ours, and
Ella's benefit. Our child was finally
able to eat! She was starved for the first four days of her life! I
was discouraged from pumping my milk for Ella because "She
probably had a blockage and would never be able to digest it anyway,"
as we were told. However I was persistent to do so, knowing that it
was the best thing for her. And to get her off of the IV of both
sugar water and antibiotics. Helen allowed us to start to feed our
daughter breast milk through a feeding tube and Ella was visibly
satisfied.
Up
until this point she was clearly losing weight and, by the way, she
was never
once
weighed during our visit. Her diapers, however, were weighed, and she
had no problem wetting diapers, so we felt there would be no problem
feeding her. After her first feeding she showed signs of irritability
within an hour and as her parents we were excited; she clearly wanted
more food. But the answer was no.
Once again she was forced to stick to the preemie schedule of every
three hours. Totally absurd! It was during this first "fit"
that we found great comfort, our baby was finally getting the
nourishment she had been needing, that any newborn would be lacking
without. However your staff responded to us with: "This
is what they do when they are ready to pass. You should prepare for
goodbye."
We
already knew better than to trust your staff, who had a history of
being wrong. This tube feeding continued throughout the next few of
hours, followed by her discontentment that we knew was from wet
diapers and a desire for more of her mother's breast milk. It was
this irritability that prompted Helen to set up a family
day
in the back room so that Ella's sisters could finally meet her, and
“say
goodbye to her.”
We would be able to spend the day with her, free from the machines,
holding her, loving her, kissing her -- with our family-- the
way
every baby should be loved.
This was by far the best memory of our stay. After a couple of hours
the staff asked us if we wanted to set up a room and stay in there
with her since she probably wouldn't make it through the night. We
refused, seeing and believing that she was only making progress and
remembering that so many of your staff's accusations had been wrong.
On
Sunday (day 5) we were able to change her and feed her as often as we
felt necessary, what a great day that was! She showed so much
contentment and comfort from that day forward. Things were finally
looking up for us and we were set on going home. The nurse on Monday
morning (the final day) said Ella had to pass the car seat test
before we could leave. We gladly brought our car seat in and she felt
Ella would not make the ride home, but she didn't want her to pass in
the hospital, so we would not have to take the test after all. That
was okay with us, one less obstacle.
During
our six-day stay at Crouse, we spent much time in the waiting room.
Here you have an informational kiosk where people can browse and read
important facts and information. Two such facts state that it is very
important for a newborn to receive their mother's breast milk and to
be held to help them keep their temperature up, among other benefits.
Ironically enough, those are two of the very things that Ella was
denied under the nurses in your hospital, and we as her parents felt
very strongly about. Also it is known that a newborn being held chest
to chest with another human regulates heartbeat. Why
were these simple, normal, methods of care not practiced here.
You highlight the importance of it in one room and then don't
practice it in another.
There
were many inconsistencies we saw in regards to your mission statement
(To
promote employee and family wellness by providing resources and
programs that will lead to happier and healthier lives.)
and
actual practices and procedures. In discussing our situation with
other families,
we
found many unfortunate parallels.
Through
all of this I learned so much about the infallible love of a mother
for her child. Terminal label or not, kind words should always
be spoken when one is most vulnerable and has little control over a
situation. Fear should never
be used as a motivator. Every time I drive by, I shed a tear at the
sight of your hospital for the painful memories that were created
there and for any other parent or child who was treated without
empathy under your roof. I know that the fight we fought for Ella
was the only thing that got us home.
Ella
passed away a few weeks later in our home-- in my arms. My only
regret is not being able to love her the way we wanted to right from
the very start. We firmly believe Crouse hindered her by allowing
her to drop 30% of her birth weight in the first six days of life.
Through research I have found that your practices are similar to what
most parents of children with chromosomal abnormalities face, and
that the belief that these children face a life of suffering is
completely false. The only suffering Ella ever endured was in your
hospital, where she was unable to be held by those who loved her, was
not fed, and was poked and prodded and laid on a flat table for days
on end-- away from me, her mother-- usually with a soiled diaper.
Ella passed peacefully in my arms while she was sleeping and I have
great peace knowing that she was surrounded by love and warmth when
she could no longer be with us.
My
hope is that you have read our story with an open mind and an open
heart. Whole-heartedly, I hope that in the future, your Neonatal
Intensive Care Unit will align its polices and the training of its
staff to place respect and dignity toward every human life-- at all
times-- no matter how brief.
Please
see the points and suggestions I have outlined below; I believe they
are paramount to lasting improvement in the quality of care you
provide:
1.
We were led to believe no medical decisions would be made without our
consent.
Suggestion:
Parents
and guardians should always be given informed, final decision-making
power with regard to their child’s testing and treatment.
2.
We watched our full-term baby receive, unjustifiable, preemie care
and were unable to give her basic newborn care (diaper changes,
holding, supplying breast milk…) as we had prior to her being
admitted to Crouse.
Suggestion:
Parents
should be allowed and encouraged to care for their newborn in all
ways that do not interfere with the medical care you provide.
3.
A general lack of compassion, tact, and professionalism among your
staff when addressing Ella and her care were pervasive.
Suggestion:
Insist
that nurses refrain from discussing “war
stories”
and comparisons of “dead
babies”
in front of patients and their families.
4.
We were repeatedly given the suggestion to “walk
away”
and “terminate.”
Suggestion:
Speak
about the patient as though theirs is a valuable life, irrespective
of diagnosis.
And
offer resources to parents and guardians to help them work through
the difficulties of an abnormal beginning to life and of the possible
death of their child.
May
your attention to the comments and opinions I’ve shared allow
others to experience the empathy and respect they so deeply desire
and deserve within each room of your hospital and in the
presence of each member of your staff. Thank you to your time and
most importantly for your consideration in making Crouse Hospital a
place where people can seek care in confidence and trust.
Sincerely,
Maggie
Phelps
Maggie
Belknap
Maggie, I am so incredibly sorry that this happened to you. Your message is powerful and I hope that it is taken seriously by the staff and administration of Crouse so that the situation will be changed for future families that will one day walk in your footsteps. You were already facing the unthinkable, and to know that your trial was exacerbated by such incompetence and lack of compassion is truly heartbreaking.
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Maggie I'm so sorry u and your family experienced this. U and your husband Drew are two of the strongest people I know. I hope this helps change some policies at the hospital.
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