Three-year-old Hazel Norris always has someone by her side.
Most weekdays it's Rachael Hatcher — affectionately called "Nurse Rachael" — who's spent more than a year caring for Hazel.
Whether Hazel's playing with toys or sitting in her highchair, Hatcher is never more than an arm's length away. That's for good reason: At any moment, Hazel could have a seizure.
In the middle of snacking on strawberries one recent afternoon in her Otsego, Minn., home, Hazel gazes up at Hatcher with a look in her eye. She reaches out with both arms like she's asking for a hug, before starting to slump over — a sure sign that a seizure is coming on.
Hatcher moves into action. She holds Hazel, their faces inches apart as Hatcher softly counts the seconds: 1, 2, 3, 4 … so that Hazel can hear her voice ... 14, 15, 16, until the seizure is over.
Hazel has intractable epileptic spasms — frequent and uncontrolled seizures that can happen multiple times a day. She needs constant monitoring and, at times, intensive medical care.
Hatcher is one of four in-home nurses providing round-the-clock service. Their bonds, however, go beyond the job.
"I care and love for her like I do my own [children]," said Amy Oman, Hazel's weekend nurse.