Hurting or Helping? Over and over, Cobi screamed, "No! No!" as the nurse and I held him down. He sobbed in pain and begged for my help, but all I could do was push him down onto the table with all my might as he kicked at me. The look of fear on his face burned a hole into my heart. As he struggled to get away, he kept his terror-filled eyes locked on mine as if to ask, "I thought I could trust you. Why are you hurting me?" I cried along with him, knowing that he depended upon me to protect him, but I could not free him. Cobi, my grandson, was eighteen months old. He had third degree burns on his hand. Daily, the pediatrician had to "debride" the damaged tissue. That meant two people had to hold the screaming toddler down while the doctor ripped the skin from his hand so that it would heal properly. I would have given anything to trade places with Cobi, but I was helpless to stop his pain. If you’re a parent, you know how heart breaking it is to watch your children suffer. Yet, sometimes you must do just that, for their own good. I can only imagine how painful debriding must be or how terrifying it is to be held down and subjected to such torture. But it was necessary for Cobi’s healing. Without this treatment, he might have grown up without use of his hand, and his fingers may have permanently curled into his palm. He didn’t understand any of that, of course. All he knew was that strangers were hurting him and he couldn’t get away. And someone he loved and trusted was helping these strangers to hurt him. He thought we were being cruel. It broke my heart to watch his suffering. Holding him down for it was the toughest thing I’ve ever done, but I had to do it. I know he was wondering, "If you love me, why won’t you help me?" Sorry, but to read "the rest of the story," you will need to get a copy of this book. OR you can order just one chapter of this book. To purchase the rest of this essay and the entire chapter of which it's a part for just $5, Email for details.
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