There is fear.\u00a0 Real. Choking. Fear.\u00a0 I tell myself that it is not \u201cof God,\u201d but I can\u2019t hear me.\u00a0 There is numbness filling me and then a torrent of tears which I must hide from my children lest they become frightened, too.\u00a0 I look for places to set it down, if only for a moment, and they do not exist.<\/p>\n
She broke her toe!\u00a0 That was all it was.\u00a0 It was destined to be a family joke and the subject of teasing for years to come.\u00a0 The toe was broken, we were so sure of it.\u00a0 Until it didn\u2019t heal.\u00a0 Until the swelling never went away.\u00a0 Until the xrays last week showed no break and no dislocation, just pockets of fluid.\u00a0 Until her knee swelled up, too.<\/p>\n
Damn that swollen knee!<\/p>\n
It was that knee that landed us at Children\u2019s Hospital.\u00a0 It was that<\/i> knee whose xrays showed no injuries.\u00a0 It was that<\/i> knee that was revealed to be filled with fluids which puffed it up until we could no longer see her kneecap. It was that knee which my husband had to hold her while it was drained.\u00a0 And she screamed.\u00a0 She screamed for them to stop and I could only sit in the corner and rock her sister and cry.\u00a0 It was that knee which made them say words like arthritis and autoimmune and rheumatology.\u00a0 And I sat there too numb to respond.<\/p>\n
Crap.<\/p>\n
Crap. Crap. Crap.<\/p>\n
We don\u2019t even know for sure.\u00a0 The not knowing triples the hurt.\u00a0 I need to know my enemies and stare them down.<\/p>\n
The\u00a0 specialists can\u2019t see her for a month.\u00a0 There are so few doctors for juvenile arthritis.\u00a0 No official diagnosis means no treatment plan.\u00a0 It also seems to mean no improvement.\u00a0 Only my aching child.<\/p>\n
Sometime soon I have to take away her childish dreams for this year.\u00a0 She won a solo in her ballet recital and got to wear a purple tutu.\u00a0 She can not dance on her knee.\u00a0 How do I steal that excitement away?\u00a0 I\u2019m already dreading her tears.\u00a0 It just seems like one more pain to lay upon her and she\u2019s only 7.\u00a0 She has to stop her beloved karate at least until the swelling is gone, but who knows after that?\u00a0 She just earned her orange belt and lived for Tuesday and Thursday nights.\u00a0 Her dreams for herself as a grown up are largely untouched, but those childhood wishes have been reduced to \u201cI want to be able to run.\u201d\u00a0 Running? Are you freaking kidding me?\u00a0 We\u2019re back at running?\u00a0 She mastered that at 2.\u00a0 How are we at this point?<\/p>\n
It\u2019s only been 6 days since the knee swelled.\u00a0 I\u2019ve gone from long joyful prayers of thanksgiving to the numbness of one choked out word.\u00a0 \u201cHelp.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There is fear.\u00a0 Real. Choking. Fear.\u00a0 I tell myself that it is not \u201cof God,\u201d but I can\u2019t hear me.\u00a0 There is numbness filling me and then a torrent of tears which I must hide from my children lest they become frightened, too.\u00a0 I look for places to set it down, if only for a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1979,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-535","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\n