The kitchen counter, the kitchen floor, the bathroom counter, the living room, Carter’s bedroom, Ashleigh’s bedroom, my bedroom, my car, our garage, it feels as though no matter where I look, I am haunted by test strips. I don’t even know where they all come from. Perhaps in my haste to clean up after dosing Carter I am flinging them around willy nilly, but I am pretty sure I make it into the trash each time. The test strips seem to attach to anything and everything with a static cling type bond, almost as though they are mocking me. But test strips aside, and the mess they seem to be making, Carter has found a new acceptance of this whole process we call surviving. Now when I bring him into the kitchen to check his blood and dose him for his meals, he sticks the finger he chooses to get poked out for me and when done he will assist me in lifting is sleeve or turning his leg to the side for the shot. His cooperation has made things so much easier as of late. It’s been interesting to find ways to reward him, these days clapping and hugs don’t seem to cut it. I remember when potty training his sister, I would reward her every time she used the big potty with a Hershey kiss. It certainly would be nice to be able to give him a handful of M&M’s for his resilience, yet that with the shot seems counterintuitive. We will find the rewards that make Carter swoon, but for now it has helped me so much that he is taking a vested interest in his health, even though he doesn’t know he is doing so. I prayed and prayed for the time when he would comprehend and I am so grateful we have arrived. I enjoy his aide in creating an ease about this whole regime and though I know there will still be hard frustrating days, for now I am happy to be reaping the rewards of all of the hard work Carter and I have put into our acceptance of this path we are on.