When my daughter Savannah was 13-months old she developed severe idiopathic thrombocytopenic (ITP) and needed an emergency blood transfusion. She – thankfully – survived, but I, no surprise, came down with a bad cold while she was in Pediatric Intensive Care (PICU).
“Why are you sick?” the haughty Indian resident examining my daughter during her morning rounds asked. Her indignation seemed to imply that I somehow violated an unspoken hospital rule that states kids can be in dire straights moms but must remain steely strong.
“Nothing is impossible. The word itself say “I’m possible.’!” Audrey Hepburn
It’s a dance in which I know all the steps too well. I bump into an old friend or acquaintance and after a moment of polite chitchat the conversation takes a sharp left turn and the tone becomes serious. “How’s Savannah doing?” they’ll ask.
This is where I falter.