Have you ever put your child through not one, but two bone marrow transplants so you could keep her alive long enough for that elusive cure that lurks just around the corner?
Do you know what it's like to let technology and drugs kill your daughter's perfectly good bone marrow so doctors can give her "better" bone marrow which has the enzyme she needs to live her life?
Have you ever waited for what seems like 600 lifetimes to see if her transplant worked? Or stood by while needles are stuck into her muscles and her nerves get shocked to see if she's maybe getting better?
There's so much more, like the time I told the anesthesiologist to make sure she's knocked out cold only to find out she woke up during a spinal fusion.
I don't know why I started thinking about all of this. I guess it's time. Almost 6 years after her death I wonder if I should have listened to her more and the doctors less.
I wonder if I was the best parent for her.
I am so thankful to God for the privilege to have known and loved my beautiful little girl.
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