Good results last Wednesday.
The images look identical to those from December. All that is perceivable on an MRI scan remained quiet. No growth.
I get these reminders of just how scared I was. It might be when I see Brouwer’s soccer ball-patterned leg braces in the shoe closet, which makes me remember when I wondered if he would ever walk again. It might be when I take my daily allergy pill, which makes me remember when I had to wear gloves to give Brouwer dozens of pills over the course of his weekend chemo regime. It might be when I’m asked to “share our story”, which makes me remember the voice of the doctor who, after diagnosing Brouwer with this wretched tumor, told us “it would not be unreasonable to do nothing, go home and enjoy whatever remaining time we may have together.”
Days like last Wednesday make me want to know the whole story. I want to trace it through. I want the Author to tell His tale. I want to know how all good and how all the bad was used for my good and His glory. Make the connections for me. Like how Brouwer’s nurse, here in Chicago at Lurie’s, was also there the day when my friend’s son, in Charlotte, received his heart transplant. Was there any meaning to that? What parts of this whole thing, unnoticed by me, were written into a larger narrative? What is the content of the chapters that lie ahead for my dear Brouwer and how will his unique experience and person please the great Poet?
So with this news we take a big step back from the abyss. Six months until the next MRI which means five months to largely lay down our worries. We now turn our full attention to the anticipation of joy in August when we welcome another little girl into our family. One who, with Banner and Willa, will undoubtedly be blessed by their big brother who, while not perfect, is as good as any big brother one could ever hope for.
Over the next month or so I hope to be more active in posting to this site. In large part my aim is to spur you to give to Lurie’s. My goal is to, by the end of May, raise $25,000 for research at Lurie’s. To date, we’ve raised $2,700, which includes two $1,000 gifts. We are always wary to ask people to give money but are emboldened to do because the cause is worthy and because we give ourselves. Your gift encourages me in my role on the executive board of the Children’s Research Fund, to which your donation will be directed and used to fund research to help provide better answers to families who are told “it would not be unreasonable to do nothing, go home and enjoy whatever remaining time we may have together.”
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