I wish you could understand what it is like to raise a child such as the one we have.  It isn't easy by any stretch of the imagination.

We have a daughter, aged 15, who is the joy of our lives.  We would do anything for her, even if she weren't handicapped.

Our daughter enjoyed a normal childhood until eight years ago, when she was seven.  We took her to get a flu shot, not knowing what it would entail.  When she had the shot, she seemed fine at first; then an hour later, we were rushing her to the nearest emergency room, as she was having seizure after seizure.

Turns out that she was allergic to eggs.  The shot she got had eggs in it; she had an adverse allergic reaction to it:  it was like poison.

When she came out of her seizure, she wasn't the same.  After she had extensive testing, it was discovered, to our horror, that she was left severely brain damaged.  She went without oxygen; this is what caused her to end up in the present stage she's now in.

Now at the age of fifteen, Gemma Elizabeth is unable to walk, talk, even feed herself.  Gemma is more like an infant than a full-grown teenaged girl:  she can't do anything but depend on us to care for her.  Even feeding requires special care. 

Because she is unable to swallow or chew, Gemma has to be fed by way of a gastrostomy tube (GT), which she had surgically placed into her stomach at the age of twelve.  Every four hours, we give her her medications through the tube; every five, we feed her through this same tube. 

We pour a special nutritional suppliment into this tube; we then let gravity do its work:  pull the suppliment to where it is supposed to go:  to her stomach/digestive system.

We do this every day.  Day in and day out.  We do this to keep her alive.

Sometimes the tube gets blocked somehow, or she develops an infection.  When this happens, Gemma has to go to the hospital for treatment.  Or the pump doesn't work.  It's very frustrating when things like this occur; we don't expect it.

I would do anything to get the old Gemma back:  the one who ran around, sang beautiful songs, laughed just at the sheer joy of living.  Now she just sits there in her wheelchair, not knowing who she is or what is going around her.  It's very heartbreaking to see her in this condition; it's worse when she gets sick because we don't know if she is going to pull through. 

It's only by the grace of God that Gemma's still with us; however, we blame ourselves for having her get the shot.  If we had relented, she might be talking on the phone with her friends, giggling over the latest joke, or sharing fashion tips, or even hanging out at the mall. 

She would not be the handicapped child we now must care for, day in and day out.

If we knew she had been allergic to the eggs in the shot solution, we would not have let her get the shot. 

If we do have to get her the shot for the flu, we make double sure it doesn't contain egg.  Lesson learned.  And a painful one at that.