About Us

Our family of 6 (dad Adam, mom Sherry, big sister Abby and little brothers Isaac and Brady -- who was born on December 14, 2010) joined the ranks of pediatric cancer fighters when our 4-year old son Logan was diagnosed with a dangerous and highly malignant form of brain cancer in mid-August 2010. Logan's cancer journey began abruptly on Sunday, August 15, when his right eye suddenly turned inward during dinner. Twenty-four hours later, we were checking into Children's Hospital Oakland and finding out that life sometimes takes you places you'd never, ever imagine yourself going.

Monday, November 8, 2010

The Logan Update: Friday, September 10, 2010

I've tried to write the first sentence of this note about 10 times now, but am finding that my eloquence has, at least for the time being, escaped me. The usual ease with which I can generate sensical prose is missing, probably because I'm tired. Exhausted, really. I have no free time anymore and just spent two hours driving home from Oakland - a trip that typically takes about 45 minutes - because of a big rig accident on the freeway. Fortunately Adam agreed to let his mom spend the night with Logan at the hospital, or it would've been much worse: The exchange at the door, shoveling down forkfuls of dinner (thanks Chrissy) over the course of 5 or 10 minutes, and then the bedtime routine, which has gotten increasingly tiresome - in more ways than one - over the course of the week. I miss having free time. I miss having time to think about things other than cancer and wondering what my family will look like in the years to come. But it's an impossibly hard situation: We can't just farm Abby and Isaac off to family and friends every day; it's not fair to them. So the cycle continues.

Today was not a great day for Logan. He was up several times overnight vomiting, and then threw up several more times throughout the day today. I felt horrible because the first time he did it on my watch, I was in the restroom, and came back to find a random nurse sitting with him on his bed, holding his bucket as he wretched, his little body coursing and rippling with each heave. It's so awful. It's so much more awful than a stomach flu or food poisoning because I'm aware of why he's throwing up: Because his innocent little body has endured an assault by toxic chemicals, and I was the one who signed on the dotted line. Granted they're designed to save his life, but it's still brutal, as a mom, to really interalize the notion that you're deliberately and systematically poisoning your child, even if the ends can justify the means. He spent most of the afternoon looking tired and sad, and asked for his nurse to come several times. At one point when I asked why, he simply replied 'so he can make me feel better'. Another crack in my heart to join the thousands already there. The sadness in his eyes just kills me over and over again. I want to see my sunshine return so badly that there aren't even words.

Anyway, his system is apparently doing a fine job of clearing out the Methotrexate, and right now, his nausea is in response to the entire course. Hopefully, he'll feel much better in a few days. Please, God. Please.

If we can get the nausea under better control, he doesn't develop a fever and his blood counts look good, he'll be released to come home as soon as Monday afternoon or evening. We've already been warned that in almost all cases, kids will spike fevers while at home that lead to re-admission, but we'll cross that bridge if we come to it.

Before I go, I wanted to share a quick conversation I had with a fellow first grade mom this morning at school. Karen, whose son was in Abby's class last year, walked along the path beside me after we'd dropped off our respective kids. She admitted that she didn't know what to say to me, and I said it was okay and that I understood. She went on to add 'but you definitely have our prayers. I really believe in the power of prayer and in miracles'. She probably didn't realize it, but her words made my morning. Miracles happen every day. Sometimes I need to be reminded of that. And I need to believe, really believe, that they can happen for our family.

Please continue the prayers for complete healing for Logan, and for energy for both Adam and myself. I'm really feeling worn out. It's doubly hard to deal with what's going on while pregnant, but there's really no downtime so I have to just keep pushing forward. Thank you for your continued support.

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