The other day my son wanted some doughnuts from a nearby supermarket. They make great doughnuts – super light and fluffy, with an icing sugar coating instead of the usual crunchy sugar.
We were driving by and I could have stopped but I didn’t.
Not because I didn’t care, but because I am always caring.
Some days I just can’t do any more.
I wanted to stop. I wanted to make him happy.
But I just couldn’t face getting him in and out of the car again. Getting a wheelchair in and out of a car may not seem that difficult ,but it is.
Especially when you have already done it 6-8 times that day, locking down and tightening four points before attaching the seat belt.
Especially when you have hoisted from chair to bench to toilet, then back to bench and to chair 4 times and it is only just lunch time.
Especially when you have hoisted to the floor and done therapeutic exercises with a child who needed massive amounts of encouragement and fought against you as though his life depended upon it!
Especially when you didn’t sleep last night because your back hurt from doing all this yesterday.
Especially when you know he had a big drink a short while ago and there are no accessible toilets in that supermarket.
Especially when you know you have to do it all again this afternoon, then tomorrow and the day after that…
Sometimes I have to say no to my son when most people would say yes.
Because I am weighing up his disappointment against the risk of injuring myself by doing just one more thing.
And sometimes, getting doughnuts would just be too much.