There are few things more precious than the health of a child. Recently I stood outside the nursery of a hospital downtown and was filled with gratitude beyond words or understanding. Tears filled my eyes (which sounds dumb and cliche, but it is visceral response and there are hardly any other ways to describe the beginning of a good cry). I had to blink them back over and over again. My throat was so tight, it was beyond hard to swallow. Once at home and several times over the past couple of weeks, I've just had to let them out. The shortest verse is "Jesus wept." There is a reason; sometimes tears do way more talking than the words from out mouths. My tears have been tears of gratitude for my own children, and tears of hope for other babies, children, and teens around me.
I am so thankful that my children are healthy. Words are not enough. Hootie with or without his blowfish sums it up, "let the tears fall down like rain." It's okay. It feels good. It is pure catharsis. The saying moved to tears is valid for the verb in that sentence. Moved. To feel truly moved and to relish in that experience is a blessed thing. I'm thankful that I've taken the time to cry a little and feel a lot grateful.
In other health news, we've postponed Mason's MRI and sleep deprived EKG as we transition into a new insurance company. If anything alarming occurs between now and our new dates, we'll move them up. Since his last episode, he has had one major headache and a couple of milder ones. No more black outs at this time.
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