Yet these words keep coming to me from various places: the PICU doctor; a friend; my mother; a trainer at the gym; a new nurse in training. All the same: "You're doing a good job."
But I wonder what they would think, what they would say, if they saw me day in and day out. If they saw my heart, my mind, my attitude. There is so much to do here, and so much that can be done. And often I just ignore it. There are always papers to file, medical info to be updated, supplies to be organized, treatments and medications to be researched, clothes to wash and fold, supplies to be changed out and ordered, new therapies and gadgets to call about, appointments to be rescheduled. The list could go on and on. Slowly I'm learning to tackle things one at a time. And of course those things that are high priority get taken care of first. But if I had a nickel for each time I repeat to someone "That's on my list of things to look into." then I'd have a lot of nickels.
I question how I spend my time. I question my time spent working, my time spent at the gym or running, my time spent out taking care of other things. I question the treatments we've chosen or not, the appointments we skip and the ones we make her go to, the decision to take her out of the house to an event or the decision to leave her home.
The truth is, even though I know we are doing as good of a job as we can, it's still hard. As a parent, there will always be a hundred things a day we can question. With Waverly, there are more like a million.
And even though I know we are taking the best care of her that we can, God must be seeing something that I don't even fully realize is there. And He is using others to repeat to me time and again this past month in particular, "You are doing a good job."
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