Priorities Revisited

I made a trip to the gynaecologist on Monday for a routine checkup. A trip as such would consist of 80% waiting and 20% consultation so I dived for the magazine table after registration and well, amidst catalogues of high-end watches and cars, some of which I've not even heard of, it would seem more interesting to pick up a copy of Motherhood. Unfortunately these magazines usually revolve around the same issues, cord blood banking being one of the latest, and it was sheer boredom that kept me flipping those pages.

There was one article, though, that caught my attention and reading it brought me back to basics. It was a story of a little singaporean boy and how he suffered from a lack of immunity. They gave a long scientific name, but it really just meant that his body was not able to give him the immunity that all of us need to survive. It started off with a cough that would not go away and other accompanying symptoms like fever, refusal to feed, etc and prior visits to pediatricians revealed nothing. At the alarming sight of the swelling of one of his arms, his parents rushed their first born son to the hospital where he was admitted immediately. Numerous tests brought them to the conclusion and they also showed that various organs were not in good condition e.g. one lung was inflated to the point of almost "bursting". They also found out that it was the BCG jab he received that triggered the downward spiral of his condition - what it would have done for the normal baby in kickstarting a process of his body producing antibodies in resistance and hence immunity, it crashed his entire system. The worst part of this was that the little boy was only five months old.

In the two years that followed, he underwent ten operations of stem-cell transplants, damage control (when his body and organs suffered attacks) and other purposes. The magazine wrote that his arms told of the countless needles that have pierced them. His father resigned from his job and his mother first took unpaid leave and later also resigned, to take care of him while he made his almost permanant stay in the hospital. Which parent could concentrate at work when your child is so ill? So, they went from dual to zero income but was blessed by donations from family and friends for the extremely high medical costs. Today, the little boy is in a much better condition but extreme care and caution must be taken due to his delicate situation.

What broke my heart was not just that this boy was only five months old when he began this ordeal, but also the few pictures they published along with the write-up. They showed a tiny bundle lying in a hospital bed, with tubes through his mouth, nose and hands. One of those shots saw him looking intently into the camera with large eyes, and yet what stuck out was the presence of those tubes again. No doubt, my heart would have gone out to this family if I'd read this two years ago but it caused a different kind of stir in me today. Perhaps it's the identification of a mother, or it could be because gabe is also around that age and I would never be able to bear it if my son went through such torture. I do not think that any parent will ever be able to recover emotionally from such an experience.

And it made me think. It was so natural of us to expect that our bundle of joy comes with all the right stuff, both the visible and the invisible. What came so natural to us was the assumption that our children will be alright, will grow into cutsey little babes donned in great looking outfits (making them even cuter), how fast they are at crawling standing walking, what we'll teach them at what stage of life, and in Singapore, what kindergarten and primary school to send them to... the list goes on. It made me stop. Stop to give thanks. Stop to appreciate that my son has proper features, ten fingers, ten toes, strong bones, normal development. Stop to remind myself that I should not take these for granted. Stop to pray that the Lord will watch over his growing, his coming and going.

Coming back to basics is humbling, and harder than anticipated. Such reminders are always welcomed to bring me back to the right set of priorities.