Next week is highly anticipated around our house. On Tuesday our furry new family member will actually come home with us. He's adorable. He's very adorable because I'm not responsible for his messes right now. As exciting as that may be we are all eagerly awaiting next Thursday.
The cast is coming off. Are you jumping out of your skin with excitiment?! I am. I'm sick of the cast on so many levels. Sally has a hard time: bathing, sleeping, using the toilet, dressing, buckling into the carseat, putting on socks, picking anything up, eating, reading, and, last but definitely not least, keeping her pants up. The pants up thing is the irritation of my days. Five minutes won't pass before someone mentions Sally's 'buns are showing'. She's destined to be a plumber. I get the delightful job of yanking her clothes back up to the proper position and scraping my knuckles on her cast. Every. Single. Time. My hands are already raw, but the cast really does me in. Small price to pay for a nice strong back, though.
A few weeks ago I went back and re-read posts from this summer. Just reading about everything stirred up those emotions again and I found myself crying. I'm still in disbelief that we are on the other side of this mountain. I can't praise God enough for his care and for answering prayers on Sally's behalf. I still can't understand the entire situation. Why did she contract TB...why did she live while others died? I do know that she's a special girl and we are so blessed to have her in our family. I should be satisfied with that, and thankful that we are almost done with medication (6 more months) and orthopaedic doctors (3-6 months in a brace)!