Columns

Many times, when I look back at how I handled my sons’ hemophilia care, I quickly remember the poor choices I made. I ache over decisions that caused heartache, and allow them to capture my full attention. Too often, I fixate on how one decision affected life choices, often leading…

My heart raced and pounded as a bead of sweat rolled down my cheek. My chest was so tight that it hugged my heart, which seemed to be doing flips. What was happening to me? I wanted to run away. I wanted to stay and hide. I wanted to scream…

During the month of August, my husband, Jared, and I are happily celebrating our third year of marriage. Though the past few months have been rocky on account of the pandemic and some aspects of our family life that appear out of our control, we remain happy and grateful to…

When my oldest son was 2 years old, he came up to me with a serious expression and said, “Dad, this monster slapped me right in the face.” I told him I had some monster spray in my room and would ensure that his room no longer contained any strange-looking…

I have carried a pocket calendar since my junior high school years. I recently came across an old calendar from 10th grade. Pictures of playful puppies were on the cover, and ticket stubs were tucked inside the sleeve. I was overwhelmed by memories of my younger days and the happiness…

About seven years ago, my youngest son experienced the worst of the worst regarding hemophilia. My boy missed most of his second-grade year — 128 of approximately 180 instructional days — because of continuous breakthrough bleeding episodes followed by extended hospital stays. Unfortunately, we could not get ahead of his…

Needle. Vein. My eyes shift back and forth. Needle. Vein. Which vein is large enough to hit without blowing, but small enough to anchor well? Tourniquet, needle, vein, syringe. I hate infusing. I HATE this. Well, tonight I definitely hate this. Maybe I haven’t eaten enough, or perhaps it’s due…