An Overdue Update

It’s weird to me, a lover of words, a writer since childhood, but it is becoming harder and harder to write updates about all that we’ve been going through.

Partly, I’m sure, because it has been going on for so long.

And partly, I have to let you know, because so many of our family’s struggles lately have been so emotional, and so deeply personal.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and months have turned into almost 2 years of hospital stays, clinic visits, and many, many therapy appointments.

The 12 month point was discouraging, the 18 month point even more so…

{Deep Cleansing Breath}

Ian’s cancer treatments ended (a bit early, as we opted to stop with 7 rounds of chemo rather than 9) in early November, and ever since then we’ve been in the new territory known as post-treatment. It’s a place that comes with conflicting feelings. As a mother of a child with cancer, I’m so relieved that he made it through treatment, so glad he is done, and yet there is a part of me that feels very nervous about being done. There is a part of me that almost wished Ian was still in treatment. That may sound crazy, especially coming from someone who typically leans much more au natural than traditional chemotherapy, but there was some comfort in treatment.

While in treatment, we were actively fighting against that dreaded disease. Ending treatment feels sort of like ending the fight. Because we won. But winning doesn’t feel like winning when we’re talking about a cancer that has been known to come back up to 10 years later. It feels more like, ok, we got that one, now stand your ground, stay on guard, ’cause you never know when that defeated enemy is going to get back up and deliver a sucker punch…

That “new area of concern” found in September hasn’t changed, at all, but it also hasn’t made it easy to rest in these first few post-treatment months.

Ian’s 4 month post-treatment scans were stable, and I’m so thankful, so grateful, but here’s where it gets hard, at least for me.

I’m left feeling a deep sense of “Now what?!”

So the cancer is gone (we hope and pray for good!), but Ian is a different boy. He’s different physically, and he’s different emotionally.

He’s been plugging away at his physical and occupational therapies (taking a break from speech for now), and he’s made some major progress, but we all know he has so much farther to go. I know it, and he knows it.

It breaks my heart to see how much he knows it.

IT Guy and & were talking one night, and he agreed that, as totally crazy as it sounds, it would have, in some ways, been easier to handle all of this if Ian had been much more intellectually affected by the brain tumor & surgery. That may sound horrible, try not to freak out on me, but there are times when I just wish he didn’t realize how affected he has been. His realization hurts to watch. He’s frustrated, and I don’t blame him one bit. He’s angry, and I don’t blame him one bit. He’s hurting, and I don’t blame him one little bit.

It’s a tough place to be, for all of us.

But we’re taking it one day at a time (the only way anybody really can), and getting through each day by the grace of God. What else is there to do?

Ian had eye surgery 10 days ago (to attempt to correct the double vision he’s had since brain surgery that keeps him wearing the pirate patch). He was hoping for an immediate complete success. That didn’t happen. The eye doctor told him and us that it could take 2 or 3 weeks to see more improvement, as the brain continues to adjust to the correction. Initially, he saw a bit of correction, but he doesn’t think it’s changed much since. I’m trying to encourage him to be patient, to stay hopeful, and I know he’s trying, but he’s frustrated. Again.

The poor guy.

It hurts to see a son you love, more than you ever knew you could love, hurt so much.

It hurts knowing that there’s nothing I can do to change one little bit of it.

But, it’s spring. It’s a new season, and Ian came up with a new idea that I’m excited to write about soon. So, while this is all so hard, it isn’t all doom and gloom around here.

In fact, with a fluffy little puppy and an adorably giggly almost 4 month old baby, there are still many smiles every day around here.

The Lord has been good. He calms our hearts and holds our hurts, and reminds us often of His love.

Valleys are hard to walk through, but they can be so good for us. We learn a lot in the valleys, about ourselves, and more importantly about the Lord, about the way He carries us through. We learn not only how dependant we truly are on Him, but also how faithful He is.

My point in saying  that is to let you know that, while this has been oh so hard,  at the same time, as Ian would say, “It’s all good…”