Wake Up Calls

I know I have blogged about this topic before but it is something that hits home for me on a fairly regular basis. One of the things that astounds you when you go to a hospital like CHOP on such a regular basis is how hard life can really be. If you think you have it bad all you have to do is wonder the halls of that hospital for an hour and you will leave both teary eyed but also thanking God for how good you have it.

Today Abby had her 6 month allergy check-up (she is still severely allergic to eggs and milk and has developed pollen, dust and tree allergies). While we were there we had to go get her blood drawn. The lab is in the building for hematology and oncology. As soon as you walk into this building it feels like a different place. The waiting room is nothing like a waiting room, rather it is more like a living room for kids. There are computers, TV's, toys, etc. What struck me immediately was the "dirty bin" for toys. As soon as your child finished playing with something it goes in the bin to avoid germ spread. Then as a sweet little boy with no hair walked past me I had to resist the urge to hug both him and his parents.

Off to the side is the chemo room where kids can go get their treatment in a special room with beds and tv's and privacy. They try to make it kid-friendly but the parents all look so hollow, so broken, so sad. Hopefully most of their children will be okay. They will survive. But how do you measure survival when you have to watch your child battle like that. To those parents the struggle itself is probably enough to shed years off of their lives. I don't know how they do it. I have a hard time understanding how their is any fairness in it.

What I do know is that although we deal with our own set of issues, they pale in comparison. I am lucky. I am blessed. And I know it. I think I needed that reminder.