Wednesday, May 05, 2010
Izzi told me that they were testing their own blood in class. They had to stick themselves, get some blood, and then perform a series of tests on it.
She couldn't prick herself. It was too hard. So hard that she actually had to ask someone else to do it for her.
I remember experiencing the same problem when I found out my Selah had type 1 diabetes. In 48 hours, you're in a class, and the teacher is telling you you have to stick your daughter. I wasn't the only parent in tears. Why was this happening?
I'm guessing there are more than a few of you out there who aren't quite sure what I mean. It's a pin, it sticks you. It won't kill you. It won't even hurt that bad. There's only a little blood, and then it stops.
That's all I have when I think of how we'll recall our lives here on this Earth. The odds of us remembering pain will be akin in amplitude and duration to remembering a pin prick. Remember that time you pricked your finger in high school? Kind of. I remember doing it. It didn't last long. I remember being afraid.