"I hope you feel better soon." This is the first thing my 6 year old says to me every morning and has done so for most of the past year. Some mornings it's all that I can do not to burst into tears in front of her. Some days I do. "I do too." is my usual response though on particularly good days I'll say "I'm feeling much better today." Nothing breaks my heart more than this simple well wish since I know that my condition is not one that is curable, but one that is to be contained and maintained. My wife and I haven't had that discussion with her yet. I'm not sure if it's something she is even capable of understanding so I continue to give her the same answer each morning.
At this point, I don't really know if I will "feel better" or even what that means anymore. Aside from dealing with my random and transient aches and pains, I've maintained pretty well over the last year, but with this latest punch in the gut it feels like everything has changed in one way or another. Every since my stint in the hospital with the blood clots, my 4 year old, who is fairly reserved, has become more affectionate asking to snuggle and offering up unsolicited hugs, but the most glaring change since that week in the hospital has been that she walks up to me at random times and says "Daddy, I love you." Before that week in the hospital, that only happened on rare occasions.
They both know that something has changed and I'm not sure how they really feel about it, whether they are curious, scared, or otherwise I don't know, but after spending three separate weeks in the hospital within 2 months there seems to be an elephant in the room and perhaps it's time that we had a talk about it.
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