one tough cookie

For all the days you wish you could be somewhere else as well as doing something besides having to drink a not so good tasting smoothie designed to light up your insides like a Christmas tree.

But you were so willing and sweet natured about those smoothies, even if it took 2 hours to drink through the mountain sized container.  Even when the older gentlemen next to us kindly cheered you on, you simply smiled your squished-up-eye smile at him and gave him a little chuckle.

You had no idea what you were in for, but you were ever so brave.  I brought the book we've been reading together to comfort you while we waited.  You slowly took in all around you while constantly sipping on that smoothie.  Each time you looked down a little more was gone out of the cup.

 

We got to the back and met Mr. Sam who would be taking care of you.   Still you were brave and smiling until you realized what was going to happen - a needle, like the feeling of a shot, was going to be placed in your arm.  Your sweet hand reached for mine and my tears began to flow.   I tried to get you to look into my eyes and to take your eyes off of the needle, but your tears just kept streaming down your face.

How I wish I could've taken the pain away, told you that it wasn't going to hurt, to let you know that I too have had that needle, and have felt the pain; the only difference being that I got you as a precious gift for that pain.  The tears made your eyes red, but you kept still the whole time.  Mr. Sam said he was so proud of you and that it took him less time than usual to put in your IV. 

Your tears subsided, but the pain in your arm was a constant reminder that the day was not over.  It was back to the CT Scan machine where you could lay down with "Superman" arms so that the dye would get into your organs to help them take better pictures.

You laid so still and held your breath when you were suppose to.  I watched from a small room off to the back, praying that God would comfort you during your ride through the "donut."   From my quiet devotions I remember the verse  . . .  Trust in the LORD with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding;  I do not understand why you are feeling this pain in your side and I do not understand what it will take to find out the reason why, but I know that GOD does.   God is the author of ALL. . . .

You got off the table and Mr. Sam pulled your IV out.  You didn't even flinch this time.  He wrapped a big bandaid around your arm and off we went. 

But not before stopping for some chicken nuggets, frys and a BIG apple juice on the way home.  No more smoothies for you today.

more counting of my One Thousand gifts. . . . .

#126  little boy and "dot dog" every morning

#127  going into a closet to hear the rain pitter patter on the roof

#128  oil lamps burning at night

#129  little feet in handknit slippers

#130  silly snuggles in the morning

#131  long sweaters on chilly November days

#132  better tasting smoothies than the ones you have to drink for a CT scan

#133  medical technology that was able to see inside a little girl

#134  such a strong and brave little girl who made it through her scan

#135  doctors who can diagnose her illness

#136  holding onto her little hand to give her strength

#137  wiping away  her tears, knowing that God gives us the strength to endure trials