It’s Time to Let Go of the Items That Haunt Me

I have begun the year on a high note: I can park both cars in my garage. My family pitched in to help with a clear out. We tossed things we no longer need and donated useful items. It was a fantastic feeling to get rid of the things that had piled up. But while we were sorting through our belongings, I discovered some items that made me pause and remember.

I found some boxes containing 60 cubic centimeter (cc) syringes sitting unopened under a thick layer of dust. These large syringes once held the plasma-derived factor that my son, Caeleb, had to have infused into his veins daily. It takes time to push out the liquid from a 60 cc syringe. It’s a slow process that was part of our daily routine.

I wondered why I had held onto these items. I kept telling myself that I would find someone to use them. But how many people use 60 cc syringes regularly? It would be easier to throw them away. I believe that the part of me that doesn’t like waste has kept me holding on to these syringes in the hope that I might find someone to use them. But I think there is another reason I hold on to these boxes.

What if. Two dangerous words when put together. What if I discard the boxes, and Caeleb needs to go back to daily infusions? Subconsciously, I believe that if I keep the boxes of syringes, Caeleb won’t need them again, but the moment I discard them, daily infusions could make a return to our lives.

As I write these words, I realize that it sounds crazy and my fear is keeping me from getting rid of the supplies. Old wound dressing kits, transfer needles, and even tubes to collect blood specimens — when I look at these items, memories flash in my mind and heart. I remember how hemophilia controlled our lives, and I don’t want to go back to those times.

Perhaps this year I can finally let go of these items that haunt me. If I can find someone to use them, great; if not, I need to find the strength to throw them out. I hadn’t realized that holding on to these items was holding me captive in the land of “what if.” I don’t plan on staying there, so I need to let go.

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