It was the best of times; it was the worst of times

As I sit here in the Children's Hospital Burn Unit listening to the chattering of nurses and clamoring of hospital hallways, I keep thinking I will wake up and find this has all been a dream. But I know better.

On our 9th day in the hospital, I've become accustomed to my new "reality" that includes surgeries and months (and probably years) of physical therapy on Carter's precious little hand. All because of a foolish mistake of my own. I've been told not to blame myself, but that's easier advice to give than to follow.

It's easy to feel sorry for yourself in situations like this, but then I walk around the unit and see others in our same situation -- and worse -- and realize that although it's bad, it could be much worse. I see bald-headed children pulled in little red wagons, tethered to IVs and feeding tubes and sundry life-sustaining devices and say a prayer of thanksgiving that my son's injuries will heal. I see weary and worried parents trudging up the halls, and even though I know what it's like to see your child in pain, I am so thankful to not know the fear of the real possibility that your child may not live to see his next birthday.

Yes, God is good. Throughout our ordeal, He has blessed us. He has put us in the capable and compassionate hands of the nurses, doctors and other staff who have taken such good care of us all. He has blessed us with a network of friends and family who have taken care of our every need. He has sheltered Carter from infection that could threaten his life. And He has given us the strength and courage to deal with this difficult situation.

I've had my moments. We've shed our tears. And even though I know they do no good, they somehow help me cope.

Sweet Hannah has been an angel. And I miss her so much! I look forward to being home and our family all together, even if it's just for a few days.

Tomorrow will bring another hurdle for our son, as Dr. Ray takes him into surgery to remove all the dead tissue and put on a dressing that will hopefully speed up the healing process. The anesthesiologist met with me earlier this morning to outline the risks associated with general anesthesia. Even though I already knew, it somehow made it more real to hear her speak the words. But I'm praying that God will continue to hold Carter in His loving embrace and bring him back to us safe and sound.

Please continue to lift him up in your prayers, as well.