Reflecting on past Easter egg hunts yielded a valuable reminder
How I helped my son participate when he needed to use a wheelchair
Last night, my youngest son, Caeleb, and I talked about our unique experiences with Easter egg hunts. My boy is now a 19-year-old man who is finishing his first year at the University of New Mexico. He enjoys studying cinematography and graphic design and hopes to find an internship in Albuquerque.
During our conversation, I asked, “Do you remember the Easter egg hunt we did in 2013 when you were 7?”
He admitted that he didn’t and asked what was so special about it. “Did I say something stupid?” he wondered. After a good laugh, I assured him that he hadn’t said anything incriminating.
I explained that 2013 had been the roughest year we’d experienced with his hemophilia. Caeleb had to remain in a wheelchair because of horrible internal bleeding in his right knee. “You couldn’t catch a break, son,” I told him. “The doctors in the hospital tried everything they could to help you, but nothing seemed to work.”
I reminded him about one particular day when the pain seemed impossible to treat. His knee was bent at a 90-degree angle and wouldn’t straighten due to the blood collecting in his joint. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe,” I explained. “Mom and I were scared. We felt helpless and couldn’t rescue you from the pain.” I told him I felt like a failure as a parent because I couldn’t fix the problem.
Fortunately, after about nine months of using a wheelchair, his knee began to straighten and life returned to what we had known. Caeleb started walking again, and his new prophylactic regimen helped keep the spontaneous bleeding episodes at bay.
“In 2013, we had an Easter egg hunt at our church,” I said. “You wanted to participate but couldn’t because people had hidden the eggs in the grass, where it was impossible for you to maneuver the wheelchair. You turned to me, and I could see the hurt in your eyes. Immediately, I ran to you, put you on my back, and we started looking for treasures in the grass.”
“Oh, yeah,” Caeleb said, “I remember that day. I told you which way to go and found the eggs with your help. I used my hands, and you used your legs. We made a great team.”
“We still do,” I said.
As Caeleb and I talked about that year’s Easter egg hunt, I felt the hair on my arms stand on end. I thought back to how it felt carrying a 7-year-old on my shoulders. I remember wanting to tell him that I needed to stop, but I didn’t say a word. He enjoyed our time together and loved being able to participate. His willingness to overcome adversity gave me the strength to seek out the golden treasures.
As we finished our conversation, I looked at Caeleb and told him how much I appreciated his willingness to share one of my favorite stories in our family canon. He smiled and said, “No worries, Dad. I know my early experiences with my bleeding disorder challenged all of us. We stuck together and fought every struggle that came our way. We are the Mighty MacDonalds! Nothing can stand in our way.”
“You remember that phrase about us being mighty,” I said. “In the future, times may get rough, and there may appear to be little to no light on our path. In those moments, remember the lessons we learned in 2013. Hard times come and go, but my love for you never fades.”
Note: Hemophilia News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or another qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Hemophilia News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to hemophilia.
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