Choose hope

This week has been a roller coaster of emotions.  Sarah had her MRI last Thursday to check tumor status.  Nathan and I have felt so good about it.  We really believed the chemo would be good. It was obviously wiping her out, so it must be getting the tumor…right?  

I took Sarah downstairs and held her while they put her to sleep, I watched them lay her on the machine, and I felt totally fine.  It was a couple hours before they brought Sarah back up to the room sleeping soundly. I knew it would take a little bit for radiology read the scan, so I took a nap with Sarah.  I woke up to our wonderful doctors walking in the room.  They are totally invested in this.  Sarah isn’t just a patient to them, I know they love her and want her to beat this. I could see it in their eyes…something was wrong. They told me the tumor was growing.  It was definitely smaller than it’s been in the past, but it was there….it was growing.  The MRI of her spine looked clean, but there could be millions of cancer cells floating around her spinal fluid that weren’t visible on the MRI. We couldn’t be 100% sure without a lumbar puncture.  This tumor is a tricky one, chemo resistant.  If the cancer had spread through her spine there wouldn't be anything else worth trying.

It was one of the worst days of my life.  I felt hopeless, the world was so dark. The next morning I was talking to our sweet nurse, she has been there with Sarah on some of her hardest days.  I said, “If it comes back clean then we will move forward," and she said, “Not if.  When.  When it comes back clean.  It has always come back clean before, it will come back clean again.”  It gave me back my hope.  I am so grateful for it.  Life is too scary, too dark without hope.  I decided right then that I would be optimistic and assume the spinal tap would come back clean.  If it didn’t come back clean, we would deal with it then.  

We did the lumbar puncture Friday morning and then we were both able to go home, but we wouldn’t know results until at least Monday.  With Monday being President’s Day, odds were better that we would know Tuesday.  Normally I love long weekends, but this weekend was way too long! I kept calling, “Do you know anything yet?” But they didn't. Nathan and I waited anxiously at the hospital with Sarah today.  We were overwhelmed with joy and gratitude when the doctor told us it was clean.  No, the chemo didn’t do exactly what we hoped it would, but it did do its job.  It kept the tumor at bay, it kept her spine clean.  

Sarah will have surgery on Thursday to remove the tumor to give her the best shot at radiation curing her.  This will be her third brain surgery in less than six months, and she is handling it all SO well.  We couldn’t be more proud of her.  Within a week or two from surgery Sarah will be headed for Seattle for Proton Radiation.  We will be there for about seven weeks.  

We are still fighting for the cure.  If all goes well, Sarah will be finished with treatment after radiation.  We know it’s a tough battle, we aren't in denial and we aren’t naive.  But we are choosing to have hope and live by faith, not fear.  We believe in miracles.  

Sister Wendy Nelson said, “Family history work will bring miracles to your life and the lives of those you love.”  I started doing family history work about the time I got pregnant with Sarah.  We have seen miracle after miracle with our baby girl… She and I almost died when she was born. Medically, she should have died the day we found the tumor.  She had her second brain surgery in December and was home two days after. We have been surrounded, uplifted, and carried by angels, and I believe some of them are people I have been able to find doing family history work.  If you haven’t started doing family history, or you think it’s all been done, start today.  I know it will bring miracles to your life too.