Wednesday, September 26, 2012

A conversation in the pool

at-pool

I brought my little girl to the pool for a dip. She loves the water. During the summer there's always a bunch of kids with heir parents at the pool in our townhouse complex. It's fun.

Our little girl, Allie, is our granddaughter, biologically. My wife and I adopted her after a tragic incident. Allie is a quadriplegic with cerebral palsy - she's a victim of shaken baby syndrome. She can't swim but she sure does have a blast at the pool. Her handicap is obvious and her enthusiasm for swimming is over the top.

Dialogue with other parents is unavoidable and, for some parents with children, irresistible. Especially when their kids quietly stare, intrigued by Allie. They're a little terrified, I think. Even more pronounced is the fear that grips a parent who knows she must deliver a child-sized explanation about the handicapped little girl on the way home. Recently, a mom asked me how she should explain it to her kids. She was genuinely at a loss. "Why would God let this happen to your little girl? What do I say to my kids" she asked.

Wow. It's never easy to open up a dialogue about God at the pool. I welcomed the question. "God doesn't just want to save or bless people and that be where it stops. He wants to bless and save others through us," I told her. "That's what you can say. This world is broken and has broken people in it – they’re not too young to see it – and that gives everyone a chance to do good to others all the time. We serve God by helping others and we reflect His love into the world when we help."

I've always admired the mammoth faith of Joni Eareckson Tada. Her radio ministry has been a blessing for years long before we ever had a special needs kid in the house. Here is a link to an article containing ten nice things you can say to new moms of children with disabilities. And here is a PDF of the article to download.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Laughter


I have news that I've sat on for about three days. The past three days have been the best few days Allie has had in at least six months. In my last post, I told you that Allie started a new prescription to manage gastrointestinal pain but it had not started working. I have to be honest, as much as I wanted it to work, I had doubts. So many treatments she's been through this past year have delivered no results. But the past few mornings have been pain free and happy for Allie. When Allie's happy, the whole house is happy.

It's actually been a little comical to watch Allie. She'll pause while playing or sitting on the Charming and Beautiful Susan's lap with a look of panic on her face when she feels something in her tummy move. She waits. Then nothing. And she laughs. It's pretty funny. She loves to laugh and it's nice to see her body cooperate with her.

The laughter has been the best medicine. Thank you for your prayers.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Results

Some of the results of Allie's tests are in. She definitely has gastritis. A biopsy of tissue from her stomach revealed that it's worse than what appeared in the visual endoscopy results Allie from a couple of weeks ago.

The doctor started Allie on a course of meds that won't produce any relief for Allie for two more weeks. The upside is that after a year on the meds, her symptoms should be totally gone. The downside for Allie is that she will still have daily stomach pain until the meds begin working in about ten more days.

Allie's body works on a crazy cycle. Every morning starts painfully and is pretty rough, but by 9:00 am, bouts of pain subside and Allie's mood improves dramatically. She usually has a great day. What a trooper! For most people, when the day starts badly, that sets the mood for the entire day. Not so for Allie. She is naturally happy and personable. Pain interrupts that but happy is her default setting.

She challenges me in so many ways. Seeing her cry and in pain makes me miserable. It's so hard to watch a child suffer and be powerless. Nothing is more frustrating than feeling so sorry for a child going through this, feeling sorry for yourself for being forced to endure the misery of a child, and feeling the guilt that comes from feeling sorry for yourself when it's the child that's suffering the most. When I find a way to overcome this useless way of expending emotional energy, I'll let you know.