Victories of Celebration

As I sit in the Texas Children's Hospital Infusion Center. I watch a young mom who looks barely over the young age of 20 flushing her 15 month or so, daughters IV. Lovingly holding her little hand in one of hers while she pushes the IV flush with the her other. The toddler is unaware of anything abnormal going on. Seemingly this is what every baby goes through on any normal day. The nurse comes by to finish the process and the mom willfully lets go of the responsibility and instead touches her child's beautiful dark hair in a loving way, offering assurance of her faithful love. The toddler still unaware of anything abnormal happening, makes "whoo" sounds while sucking her binky.

Around the corner, I hear words of encouragement from a nurse "You're a big boy, you didn't even cry" to another child who remains nameless and faceless to anyone except those involved behind the curtain of his treatment cubical.

Next to my son who patiently waits for the medication to arrive from pharmacy, is a young girl who with such delight and excitement tells her nurse that tomorrow is her 13th birthday!  The nurse along with the girls mom join in the celebration of the announcement and suggest ways that she can celebrate in spite of the fact that she will be sitting in the same chair tomorrow receiving treatment. Most girls her age should be having a pool party, a sleep over or anything else to signify such a beautiful event of turning into a teenager.

Victories of celebration are dictated by the inconveniences of her medical condition.  

The kids present here are a small representation a host of thousands of kids who are sick. Here today, on this Thursday in July, while most people are complaining about their job, or lack of, while most are busy counting down the hours until they can be somewhere else except where they are...these kids accompanied by their parents or care givers are receiving their infusion treatments. Treatments that are necessary to sustain life and offer a glimpse of better health at least for the immediate time.

My sons bag of IVIG arrived. The nurse comes cheerfully into my sons curtained area with a big smile and kind greeting asking him if he's ready to get started?  I tell her that I see and appreciate the good care they give these kids. She says, "oh thank you."  After she hooks my son up, she gives him a blanket, dims the lights and says, "I'll be back to check on you.". On to the next child, I assume who needs the assurance of her kind words and big smile as she hooks up their medication as well.

By the way, the toddler is hooked up now, and able to get out of her stroller and bounce and makes sounds as she is receiving her treatment. The young mom looks at her daughter as any proud momma would and teaches her how to say simple words. 

Victories of celebration are dictated by the inconveniences of her medical condition.  

May this blog prompt you to pray for these kids and the thousands of others, maybe millions, who are dealing on a daily basis with so much more than most adults.

May you remember the unsung heroes of these kids...their parents and or significant others who serve these children by walking along side them to ensure they receive necessary treatments. Those who sacrifice their time, effort, finances and resources to sit patiently with their child.  Those Who monitor the vitals and all the necessary numbers, who take them home after their treatments to get them "back to normal" living as much as possible....until the next treatment. 

Victories of celebration are dictated by the inconveniences of their medical condition.  

Matthew 25:40 rings in my spirit. "Whatever you've done to the least of these, you have done unto Me."  Jesus.