In the Twinkling of an Eye - a Column by Joe MacDonald

As a father of sons with hemophilia, I know my way around a hospital like the back of my hand. We have visited the emergency room far too often. An internal bleed from a fall or a spontaneous joint injury would start at home and continue to cause…

We all have a story about a time when our lives changed. Some memories elicit the best of times, while others recall deep pain. For me, the day my eldest son, “MacDonald the Older,” was diagnosed with severe hemophilia proved surreal. I had no idea what a bleeding disorder…

We have looked forward to this moment for years. No longer do we have to find veins or stick a 2-inch needle into a port-a-cath under the skin every day. All that is required is a subcutaneous injection every two weeks. The future is here, and while we exude…

My son couldn’t walk, and placing him in a wheelchair proved to be impossible. Internal bleeding into a knee or ankle forced my “stinky boy” to remain in bed. I hurt for him, thinking, “If only he could get in a wheelchair, he could see the world.” We wished…

My family entered the hemophilia community more than 23 years ago with the birth of my oldest son. During our time with the bleeding disorders community, my wife and I learned to access ports, treat and perform peripheral sticks, and negotiate difficult circumstances. We did not receive a manual titled…

As the year draws to a close, I cannot help but review the successes and failures of the past 12 months. How do I continue to honor the many roles that I play as a husband, father, caregiver, and pastor? Where is there room for improvement? How can I improve…

I am scrambling to find my way back to a schedule that includes time to write and research. For some reason, I am finding it difficult to get motivated. I set out to finish my doctorate in ministry from Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, and now I have it. What’s…

My wife is scheduled for surgery this week in Albuquerque, New Mexico. She will be in the hospital for one or two nights. We live about 3½ hours from the hospital, so we will be gone for about three days. We are optimistic that her recovery will go well…

I recall an early experience with anxiety. I was standing at the back of the church, ready to appear before the congregation to offer the sacrament of communion. But something held me back. The more I fought my feelings, the more I struggled. I took labored breaths as I stood…

You don’t have to look far to find people who are afraid of needles. There is something to be said about sharp, pointy things digging into your flesh. The process is not fun, and we endure it knowing that the medicine will fulfill its purpose. We hope to feel better…