I've mentioned before that I work in early intervention. I have also explained a bit about what that job entails, so I won't go into details again. What I often do not talk about are the harder aspects of my job. I go into people's homes to work with children, babies really, and some of the things I encounter are heartbreaking. It doesn't surprise most people to find out the burn-out rate in my line of work is fairly high.
Today I went for a visit that made my heart heavy. It wasn't the worst thing I've seen, but it still made me sad. The little boy is only 1/2 way through his first year of life, and his Mom is due to add a brother or sister this fall. The first thing that hit me when I walked in the door was the smell. It's hard to describe unless you've smelt it before, but I know what dirty smells like, and it's horrible. The floors were filthy and the stack of dishes in the sink reeked of mold. The baby was playing on the floor (on a blanket the other therapist brought with her) and he was screeching away; happily unaware of his surroundings. I spent time talking with his Mom about resources and making good decisions for her whole family. I was happy to see that the little boy looked clean and was making some nice progress. Mom looked good too, and she was certainly trying hard to do the very best she could.
I went back to the office and talked with my program director. We had to do something because the living conditions were just not okay. I understand that parents often have a million things to do and never enough time to get them done, but this was going way beyond that. It broke my heart to share with my director all of my concerns, but I am responsible to do just that; it's the hardest part of my job. She reminded me of how important it is for all of us in this field to act on our instincts, and to always rely on her for support. She talked me through it and I felt better after leaving her office.
After that conversation I was off to evaluate a child who had recently been referred to our program. The referral was made by the child's pediatrician for general developmental concerns. My co-workers and I were not in the house 10 minutes before we knew something was going on with this little guy. He qualified for services and I had to explain to his Mom that further testing may be a good next step. She took the news well, but I've learned over the many years of relaying this information what it looks like to hide fear and sadness behind a smile. I reassured her that we would be coming out to work with her son, that he had a lot of great strengths, and everyone would be supporting her whole family.
I left that evaluation feeling drained, especially having it been directly after an emotionally charged home visit. At our cars, my co-workers and I started talking about our weekend plans. We laughed about what we were planning and joked about having a few extra drinks after a crazy week. I ended up smiling as I started driving home.
When I got home tonight I was trying hard not to think about my day. I've struggled over the years with taking my job "home" too often. Realistically I don't have a job that I can just close out when I walk in the backdoor, but I know I need to try and set better emotional boundaries. A text from my director brought the events of the day to the forefront of my mind. I texted a co-worker and briefly explained what had happened. She quickly replied that I should rest assured I did everything right and if I needed her she "had my back."
Today was an example of how I get through my job. My job would not be what it is without my amazing co-workers. I have so many people that I can call, text, or email and find comfort and solidarity. These people know what it's like to leave a visit and want to cry; they know how it feels to see a child take his first steps or say his first words. They are in the thick of things with me - through the ups and downs. Without the amazing people I work with I don't know that I'd still be at my job today. They have supported me, laughed with me, and "had my back" for the past few years. Tonight I am grateful for my co-workers. They are an amazing group of therapists who make a difference each day they go to work. I am grateful for my friends at Criterion Middlesex Early Intervention.
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