What do you
say to a small, very cute and intelligent little boy when he doesn’t understand
what’s happening to him? In fact he doesn’t even remember being poorly, only
waking up in a hospital and everybody poking him, taking his blood and looking
worried. He doesn’t remember how scared you were as his eyes started rolling
back into his head and you lost contact with him, he doesn’t remember your
screams of desperation for the blood of Jesus to save and heal him as he had a
seizure in your arms, he’ll never even know how scared you were that this time
you may really lose him. All he knows is that he wants to go home, to see his
friends, to play with his toys, to have his own space to run around in and that
it hurts when they take your blood.
This last
week has totally thrown me into confusion. I never really expected this to
happen again, but it has and somehow we have to cope with it. Now, a week to
the day of this latest hypoglycaemic seizure it almost seems crazy to feel so
tense and concerned, because the little boy lying in the bed next to me in the
hospital is fine…he eats well, he sleeps well, he’s full of energy and life!
Yet, there were moments only a week ago that I really thought I might lose my
little boy, this most precious bundle who brings life, joy and kung-fu to all
he meets!
So, why do
you have to be poorly little one? I’m so sorry, but I don’t know. All we can do
is to pray that it never happens again.