The benefits of practice rounds at advanced caregiving

Even if I’d had a smartphone, my sister would’ve been way more compelling to watch.

Years ago, while my sister, Gina, was on break from medical school, our mom, dad, she, and I had to take a road trip for a family reunion. Because I was still in high school at the time, my trip essentials included my Game Boy, my own CD player, and whatever amazing food my mom prepared.

Gina, however, had medical textbooks and practice exams. During the trip, she studied, took mock tests, and even had my mom drill her on terms and definitions. It was no big deal to me. She was a med student.

Suddenly, she reached into her bag and pulled out a wooden suture practice board. I stared in awe as Gina efficiently sewed stitches on the material, but that’s not what blew my mind. At the tail end of her successful suture, she closed her eyes and continued the task. Soon, she began to do it earlier in the process, until she could do it without looking for the majority of her suture practice.

“Are your eyes closed while you’re doing that?” our father asked when he glanced in the rearview mirror.

“Yes,” my sister answered.

“Is that … safe?” Daddy inquired. He was probably thinking about the needles she was handling in a moving car.

“I can’t assume I’ll always be able to see what I’m doing,” Gina replied. “So I need to practice what that feels like.”

I had no idea that many years later, I’d have this need in common with my sister.

The veins you can’t see

When our oldest daughter, whom we lovingly call Ladybug, was diagnosed with hereditary angioedema, one of the first things I learned to do was administer her emergency infusions at home.

When the nurse came to our house for the first training session, she insisted that we put a tourniquet on Ladybug so I could practice finding a vein. Instinctively, I pointed out all of the large blue lines I could see. Clearly, I thought, that’s what she wanted.

Not at all.

She congratulated me on going for the obvious, mentioning that sometimes those work. But then she reminded me of something I’d heard before.

“I want you to find the veins you can’t see,” she said to me, “because one day you’re going to have to go for the ones you can’t see and can only feel.”

At first, I thought practicing to find veins I couldn’t see wasn’t necessary. I was looking at plenty of good ones in our daughter’s hands. But then I remembered the fateful road trip with my family.

I’d asked my sister, years later, if practicing sutures with her eyes closed ever panned out. “All the time,” she answered quickly. In fact, without revealing too much, she admitted that she’d found herself in more “blind” situations than ideal ones. She actually became known as one of the few doctors in her hospital who could execute the near impossible.

I took the nurse’s advice, and together we found several veins I couldn’t see.

I’ve had to do that often in real time. And each time, I’ve been grateful I was able to practice without any pressure.

Sometimes, as caregivers, it’s essential that we prepare for the less-than-ideal situations when they aren’t happening. The more comfortable we become during the practice runs, the better we can be when it really counts.

Note: Angioedema News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Angioedema News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to angioedema.