Joe is the father of two sons with hemophilia. He and his wife, Cazandra, are active members in the bleeding disorders community and often facilitate workshops both locally and nationally. Joe is a pastor in the United Methodist Church and writes a blog about spirituality and faith. You may follow his blog at www.joekmac.com.One of the best things about my relationship with my wife is our team approach to difficult circumstances stemming from hemophilia. I tend to remain calm at the beginning of a problem, while she is active toward the end. Our responses mostly happen automatically, like clockwork. We are grateful…
My oldest son will be moving out of the house in a few weeks to rent an apartment with a good friend of his. My mind continues to bring light to the fact that he is 22 years old. It is time for him to spread his wings and leave…
Recently, I discussed an issue with several men with whom I meet on Monday mornings. We talk about various topics, and that morning’s conversation centered around the idea of forgiveness. For a healthier life, we must let go of resentments and embrace change. Only through surrendering our pain can…
A few years ago, “MacDonald the Younger,” his mom, and I went to his yearly checkup with the Hemophilia Treatment Center to review our road map (healthcare chart), report on activities, and make sure that he was taking the correct dose of product for his height and…
February 2014 was a significant time in the life of my family. For years we saw our younger son regularly suffer bleed after bleed. He suffered from an inhibitor and an allergy to factor. Nothing seemed to help. We felt lost and unsure about how to continue seeking…
My wife and I learned early to be careful when discussing the struggles we share in caregiving. Sometimes we get tired and want to complain, but we must remember that our children hear and see us. If we say something in total frustration, our children might blame themselves…
So, we are in the car. Everyone is in their respective seats. We are all looking forward to our vacation. The car is filled with suitcases and excitement. Then, I hear the dreaded sentence from my youngest boy: “Daddy, my leg hurts.” My wife and I look at…
Every family speaks their own language. Mine certainly does. It is like a secret code that is unbreakable outside of our house, used to inform family members how we feel about an issue or event. It is done so subtly that no one else is aware of the information…
In past columns, I discussed my frustrations when anger rears its ugly head out of the shadows of my consciousness and takes hold of me. It isn’t pretty, nor is it the best choice to make. I wasn’t prepared to handle the overwhelming emotions that came over…
This week, we will consult with the surgeon who will have placed and removed six of my son’s seven port-a-caths. There will not be an eighth foreign object in “MacDonald the Younger’s” body, as it will not see port number eight. His treatment does not require access, and…
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