Monday, November 14, 2011


Tomorrow morning, bright and early, Juliana will have a small surgery. A cyst grew on her lip and has grown and grown for months. It's time to take it off. A 40 minute procedure is what we face. General Anesthesia is my biggest concern.

And yet, it's nothing, really.

Daniel put into words what I have been feeling: I cannot imagine having a truly sick child.

Our small surgery in a nice surgical center with a doctor we really like is a cake walk compared to dealing with pediatric cancer or weeks or months at a time in a hospital.

This little procedure pales in comparison to chemo, scans, major surgeries, or months of trying to diagnose.

And our lives are cush compared to the circumstances sick people face in so many other countries.

So while my heart is heavy, waiting for the moment my little girl wakes up from anesthesia and I see her bright blues; while we are letting her sleep with us in our bed and we bought her popsicles at the store today; and while I have prayed many prayers over her sweet sleeping form tonight, all the more my prayers are with every family that faces my worst nightmare as their everyday reality.

If you want to help out families in need this Christmas, check out this caringbridge site and donate to Kate's Crazy Cool Chirstmas. And prayer for peace, comfort and mercy for her and her family.

1 comment:

Jennifer said...

We have this conversation A LOT. In many ways there is nothing wrong with Nate but yet, every day, we have to think about what he will eat, where he will be, if there is a sub in his room will they know what his restrictions are? Leaving him with a babysitter requires discussion about epi-pens and 911. At least once a week he refuses to eat b/c of reflux/nausea. He continues to drink 30 calorie per ounce formula just to give him enough nutrition to "keep up". Every time he has anesthesia I stop being an MD completely and am only a terrified mom. But he's not "sick". He's perfect. I can't imagine having a baby with something truly incurable, of living every day with the knowledge that your baby's lifespan is limited. Sometimes I come to work and I just feel selfish for wanting to drop him off at school and let him eat scrambled eggs with everyone else. We are lucky and we know it. But, in the end, that doesn't change how it feels to worry about your child.