Child’s Eyes

How often I have wished to possess the faith of a child, the innocence of a child, the I-don't-have-a-care-in-the-world spirit of a child, or the wonder of a child at things that one time I found dazzling. Christmas. Birthdays. Trips to the movie theater. (Oh that's right, I still find that dazzling.) Anyway. We've all felt the longing to experience a life that didn't involve too much thinking or feeling or analyzing, one like we might have lived before this life got too complicated.

That's all dandy till you are talking to your 4 year old trying to calm her anxieties regarding an upcoming battery of medical tests and you begin to realize what it is she THINKS they are going to do to her.

I thought I had prepared her for the most painful test which was to be the blood draw. I had walked her through what to expect including pushing up her sleeve, placing a rubber band around her arm, feeling for veins, swiping her arm with a wet cotton ball, and finally pinching her skin as if to poke her. I knew she wasn't looking forward to it, but she hadn't talked about it in days. This morning as we were getting ready to go to the hospital, she became quite teary at the possibility of having pictures of her insides taken. I couldn't imagine why this would be traumatic to consider aside from it just being an unfamiliar process, but I assured her it would be painless and quick. Then she asked with quivering lips and tear-filled eyes, "But will they have to take my skin off?" Because how ELSE could pictures of her insides be taken? Sheesh. I am thankful for my ability to think like an adult today. But only today.

Everything went fine. She smiled sweetly for each X-ray as if that, too, would be captured on film and lend some clue as to her internal condition. And she didn't shed a tear for the blood draw.

And it is nothing critical, as far as we know, just some pre-cautionary measures being taken to calm Mom's adult anxieties.