the dirty deed is done

So I asked the nurse today if I could administer Moriah's first ACTH shot. I decided I would rather not watch today, and try tomorrow...too much anxious anticipation in between. I practiced on an orange a few times, and when the vial was finally delivered this evening, was able to do what needed to be done. Jabbed the needle into her thigh and pushed the hormone into her body. The nurse told me my hand was steady and I didn't seem nervous at all; I'm not sure how I exuded anything other than grief. I figure someday I'm going to break down and have a good cry about the events of this week, but somehow, I just can't right now. Just keep meeting moments as they come and asking Jesus to heal our little girl, to make her well. Putting a needle into my daughter's body doesn't bother me nearly as much as injecting her with something that might harm her, could possibly heal her. She will either be totally better, or not better and needing to try another medication, or harmed in the process, or... As my friend said to me this evening, we wouldn't accept such odds from a car mechanic ("well, your brakes might be fixed"). That, at least, made me laugh. But someday, I swear, I'm going to cry about it all.