Day 7 - Dream a Little Dream: Life After a Cure

It's fitting that Sunday is the day that I write about our dream of a cure.  Every Sunday at church it is one of my top agenda items when I visit Him.

I find the thought somewhat overwhelming.  I get a little choked up if I dwell on it too long.  No parent wants their child to face this kind of burden and to think about the day when Jonathan would be free of this evokes some powerful emotions.

I think that when it does come, my blog post at the end of the day would go something like this:

I'd say I woke up this morning, but truth of the matter is I didn't really fall asleep in the first place.  Who could sleep? Today was the day that Jonathan was cured.  I was up all night trying to keep myself from running in the streets, shouting it to the world.

As we sat down to breakfast my brain fogged over as I prepared his injection and realized that it would be the last one I would give him.  After today I could simply pitch the kit into the trash and say good riddens.  I could barely bring myself to eat, I only had one thing on my mind.  We had a nice discussion about our adventures since his diagnosis and what we had all been through.  Even though one chapter was about to end, Jonathan's journey is not over, it's just going to get better.

When the doctor came into the room we were all there.  I started to get choked up, my wife started laughing at me and then I started laughing and she started to cry.  Alex thought we were weird and Jonathan was ready to get on with it.  The doctor administered the cure.  In a blink of an eye it was over and D was gone.  It was like a shroud had been lifted off of us and everything looked different.  It was like that first spring day when the grass looks greener, the sky looks bluer, and the birds sing louder.  It was a moment of pure joy.

After seeing the doctor, we went for a walk down by the river.  Alexandra and Jonathan taunted and chased each other to see who could annoy the other more, as siblings do.  When we got to the bridge, I reached into my pocket for his meter before realizing that it wasn't there anymore.  I felt an odd sense of loss as a purpose in my life was no longer, but knowing that Jonathan is now free far outweighed that and I didn't give it a second thought.

Before we knew it, mid-afternoon was upon us and we had totally missed lunch.  We were all famished, so we decided to check out a new buffet.  As I watched Jonathan load his plate with total abandon I just stood there in awe, knowing that a day ago I would have been freaking out.  I started to chuckle as I teared up again.  We filled our bellies and trotted off with a sense of euphoria.  In a way it was all new, but at the same time memories of pre-diagnosis came flooding in.  We spent the rest of the afternoon just meandering.  When we were all back home again we were wiped.  We sat on the deck with an ice crème cone and watched the sun go down.

The kids are in bed now and probably asleep.  I'm running on fumes, but I know that for the first time in a long time I will be sleeping straight through and when I wake up tomorrow my first thought will likely be about breakfast instead of a glucose number.

 I think that's kinda how it would go.