maybe I'm abnormal, but I can honestlly say that since recovering from the initial diagnosis, I don't think twice about Connor's life span. I know we all die, most of us have no idea when or how or where. I accept that I don't have control over that, and just live each day one at a time. We've never treated Connor any differently than his sister- as in thinking we won't have him as long as we'll have her- because we just don't know. We manage each and every symptom that occurs and go from there. We participate in fundraising, and hope there'll be a cure in Connor's life time, but really don't focus on that. We work hard to teach him how to take care of himself so he can live a long happy life- just like we teach his sister who doesn't have CF. We decided early on that we wouldn't let CF be the identifying factor of Connor. He has CF, it doesn't define who he is. We don't avoid the subject- he knows the median age of people with CF, but he also know that there are exceptions to every rule, and why not aim to be one of those who live well past 60?
When he was first diagnosed I was hurt and angry because I felt (and still feel) that the love that created him couldn't be more pure. I was upset that he might not be able to have children of his own. That's what I cried for, but I got over it, and haven't looked back. Always look forward, only glance back to be sure you've learned from the past experiences.
