Saturdays are for Stories

A SHOT A DAY

The comedian Brian Regan has a skit that goes like something like this…

“There’s this little kid who lets go of his balloon and he starts crying. His dad says to him ‘What are you crying about? It’s a balloon; we’ll get you another one.’ But imagine if you took your wallet out and it just started floating away. I can see it now ‘Waa, my wallet!’”

Hence is the introduction into a child’s life. It is a difficult prospect to see the world through the eyes of a child though we all once were children. Still, the effort is worth the empathy that should accompany our remembrance.

This effort is especially needed on our oldest Charis. She is my hero this week. After the result of many examinations it was determined that her body does not produce enough growth hormone. She now takes injections six out of seven days a week.

Not a year ago Charis had to be held down forcibly to stay in the dentist’s chair. I looked like a white jacket around her as her last flew shot was administered. Time and again we have experienced Charis’ frenzied responses to vaccinations and medical examinations. The impending thought of the doom of daily injections was oppressive to Rachelle and me.

A few weeks ago Charis told me that she had been praying that God would make her big. The big day when we were to administer the first shot came and we spoke in-depth on this change in our lives now. We told her that we are all in this together. We pointed out that God had answered her prayer in the affirmative and now she could grow again. After the nurse arrived we gave the first shot. It was a little bumpy, with Charis needing a “do over” since she moved so much that the needle came out and had to be re-injected. The second day she looked me in the eyes and said she was scared. I told her it was okay to be scared and I reminded her that we were all in it together. She cried a little and dug her nails in her arm leaving indentations, but she didn’t fight. The third day she was relaxed, asked for the shot, didn’t cry, but laughed with joy after it was over. She had tapped into her inner strength and found it liberating. It has since been this way day in and out. We give praise to God for the gift of her bravery.

I know soldiers who faint at the sight of needles. The impending pain and reality of a daily shot to a five year old girl is unimaginable to me. In her daily task of growing this must seem an unbearable weight. Yet she faces that which scares her with bravery. She puts on courage as part of her wardrobe, endures the experience and comes out the victor. It is a lesson she will need her entire life and it is a reminder to her daddy to be brave in the scary times in his life.