Wanaque

Jasmine was sent to Wanaque in the middle of October. I was sick to my stomach because she would be in the hands of people that I didn't know, and I wouldn't have the access that I had to her in Children's . The ride was an hour down the parkway, and then another hour down Rt. 287. It wasn't a bad ride, just a very long ride. The first time we went I was very upset. She went from being in around a 32 bed facility, to I think a 92 bed facility. It was very overwhelming to see so many sick children, peering out through their beds, or just laying there on ventilators. We signed in, found Jasmine's room, and took a look around. She had a roommate who appeared to be around 6 or 7 years old, she couldn't talk, but she sure could smile! She was as sweet as could be, but was all alone with only a TV to comfort her. We met one of the nurses,(who I must say were all very nice) and helped us to get Jasmine in her chair so we could take her for a walk around the ward. When we walked in the main room where they fed them, I was extremely unprepared. There were children everywhere, lined up in front of a TV, some totally out of it, some sleeping, and some just staring at the television. Don't get me wrong, they were totally cared for in the sense that a hospital can care for someone, but it is just so sad to see children with no one to give them that one on one attention that every child needs. Many of the kids were tube fed, (including Jasmine) so there were IV poles everywhere accompanying the patient. This was ours and Jasmine's lives for the next eight and a half months. If I knew how long she would have been there, I don't think that I would have been able to handle it. I would work all day, then take the trip one night a week for two hours, visit for two, and then drive home another two. When the weekend came, we would do it again, spending as much time with her as we could. Sometimes when we could come to see her, the window in her room would be open, her feeding tube unattached in her bed, and she would be soaking wet from the feeding that just spilled all over her bed. There were so many patients that a nurse wasn't able to keep checking her like a mother would check her child. Fortunately, there was a nurses aide who fell in love with Jasmine the minute she saw her. Her name was Verna and she had a thick Jamaican accent. She took to her like I did, and became her hospital mother. Verna would take Jasmine's clothes home to wash, because she didn't want them in the washing machines with all the other soiled clothing. When she would go back to Jamaica for a visit, she would line other people up to look in on Jasmine and to do her laundry for her. I was able to take her clothes home many times too, and it gave me such a feeling of closeness to Jasmine, folding her little clothes and imagining dressing her in them. I had been in touch with Jasmine's social worker, and told her what my intentions were and if she thought that I would be able to foster her. She was going to have to check with her family to see if anyone else was willing to take her first, but she would let me know. Meanwhile, not one of her family members came to see her at all. Her mother came one time with the social worker, only because she was encouraged to do so by the worker. I felt like I was not destined to have Jasmine, because during my Christmas party at work a few days before Christmas, her worker called me and told me that it looked like the Grandma was going to take Jasmine. I was heartbroken but thought that maybe it would be best for Jasmine to be with her family. I told Jill and she was very upset too. We decided that what was to be was what was supposed to happen, and that we should just be there for Jasmine while she was in the hospital. A couple of months later I was informed by the social worker that the grandmother never called her again and that it looked like Jasmine was available to foster. Jack and I went for our classes, and then were told that we needed the classes for medically fragile children as well. We took them too, but I must say it really doesn't cover what you really need to know to care for a special needs child. Once we completed all our classes I thought we were done. Not so. We then had to go through a series of interviews for all family members that would be living with Jasmine, fingerprinting and background checks, and then a home inspection. When the state inspector came to our house, I had to have childproof latches on all my cupboards, (even though Jasmine couldn't even scratch her own nose if she wanted to)and all medicines in a locked cabinet. She even asked to look in my closets much to my dismay, because that's why my house looked so clean! I asked her why she needed to look in my closets and she answered very matter of factly that she had to make sure I wasn't hiding any children in there. Really? While we waited patiently for all of the paperwork to go through, we faithfully visited Jasmine every week.