Just Like You, Really
Sometimes life is just about perspective: how you look at it. Something you dread, can become something to covet, if you just look at it from another direction. Perhaps.
This week our youngest kid will be getting a transfusion. If you are a RR here, you will know all about it- that she has a rare type of anaemia that requires a few transfusions per year. When she was younger I would approach this week firstly with denial or anger, then fear and vulnerability.
These days we have a better handle on the whole thing. We are accustomed to the process, and we feel we have a lot more input over how it all goes. We get to choose the transfusion day, so we can plan our lives a little better. We have a home test kit so we can keep an eye on her, and we don’t have to be too worried about plummeting haemoglobin. I can’t yet say we can’t wait for transfusion day, not really, but in some strange and wonderful way, we sort of look forward to it.
We have already been shopping for a new outfit for her to wear on the day (because shopping heals most things that ail you), we have chosen what books and craft we will take in with us for the long day, and we have something special planned for the days that follow, where she will be in the very pink of health, and back to her normal self.
And then, for me, there is the lure of relief.
The moment that the car parking ticket gets fed into the machine is probably the best moment of my year, every time it happens. I know as I push that little white slip onto the lurid yellow slot and the barrier comes up, I won’t have to think about red blood cells and jaundice and liver function and bilirubin and haemoglobin and erythropoiesis and fevers and immune system compromise and all of that for another two and a half months. And that is something to savour.
It’s kind of like we get a New Year every three months. There is a sense of relief and relaxation of a job completed, as well as a feeling of rejuvenation.
It’s like we get to start over.
In the car on the way home we will chat about all the things that we will do, now that she is full again. She will have aspirations of cartwheels and tennis and holding her violin up high, just like the other kids. She will admire herself in the mirror and see a healthy, pinkish tone, just like the other kids. She will laugh and cry and be sweet and kind or have tantrums, just like the other kids. She will maybe stay up a little late, or get up early, and we won’t be so nervy about it all, just like the other families. And I will hug my girl and appreciate her for who she is, just like the other Mums.
…From The Ashers xx
I love this post. I love your attitude because I think with a positive attitude almost anything is bearable. It really resonates with me because it’s kind of how I feel about my cancer check ups; that immense relief when you get the good news, a 6 month window of opportunity and then that anxious tired time when you have to go through it all again. We always plan something special straight after the results so either whether we commiserate or celebrate, we still have a good time. A great read as always! Thinking of you guys and sending good vibes your way…
I think “anxious tired time” explains it perfectly Sammie. And ours is just small, really, in the scheme of things. But I do love the relief and the window, where we are born again. Love to you.
I will say a little prayer for you♡
You are so inspiring and I admire your courage. You are the brave family and you have such inner strength. Hope it all goes very well. Thank you for sharing little glimpses of your life….. I must admit I’m a bit addicted to reading From the Ashers. Makes me laugh, cry and makes my day
keep up your great words….you do have a way with em
Awww, thanks Lani. Thanks even more for reading.
PS We aren’t particularly brave, but we do like to whinge… Hence the page!
Mate, I hope it goes so well and you are relaxed and relieved beyond measure, even for a short while.
Thank you my big hearted friend. xx