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: Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Today was a decent day that ended on a downer note. Logan was awake most of the afternoon, and busied himself by asking me to draw cars and calling the nurse to take him to the bathroom. It was so encouraging (and yet heartbreaking at once) to see shades of his usual self shining through at times; muted bursts of enthusiasm while telling the nurse about Cars, asking for a bag of Goldfish crackers completely unprompted, playing a modified game of catch for the neurologist who came by to check him out. It pains me so deeply every time I realize how uncomfortable he is, how much he hates his tubes, how challenging it is for him to take a few steps or even just stand unassisted on his frail little legs. He's always been thin, but now... he's like a little fledgling bird who can't quite seem to fly. I want to just cradle him, but I can't, at least not without heavy blankets and gloves: The chemo drugs don't mix with pregnancy, and I can't risk touching any of his bodily fluids. It more than stinks to have to thoroughly wash your hands after touching your own child. It makes an already horribly unfair situation seem just plain inhumane, for both Logan and me.

Anyway, I coaxed him into eating some chicken, macaroni and cheese and grapes for dinner, but he wound up throwing most of it up just before I left to head home. His appetite was much improved today, so I can't complain too heavily. Vomit happens during chemo.

Tonight he'll finish his first round with the last of the five drugs: Methotrexate. This particular drug requires a specific pH level for use, so they were pumping him full of fluids and checking his urine starting earlier this evening in preparation to push it. Please pray that it goes well for him and that the drug will do a number on those tumors. This is the specific drug that's very important in AT/RT treatment, so it needs to go well.

Per an email I got from Adam a minute ago (literally! I'm just that timely), Logan is awake and they're watching Monsters, Inc., which has of late become a favorite. He apparently had some more mac and cheese as well as some fruit snacks Adam smuggled in from home (it's allowed, I'm just kidding about the smuggled part) and is okay so far.

I'm so, so tired. I can't even begin to explain what this is like for me. We've been dealing with it for 3 1/2 weeks now, yet I still wake up 10 or 12 times a night, and each time I'm crushed to realize that it isn't all just a bad dream, and that yes, I'm sleeping alone in my bed because Adam is in Oakland. Because my sweet boy - the one we've always called a lover, and not a fighter - is critically ill. I lie in stunned silence and replay the blur that's the past month, and wish to heaven that somehow, I could erase it all and magically have all of my children safely tucked into their beds, and healthy.

I'll be 25 weeks with #4 tomorrow, and I'm starting to feel the usual pregnancy discomforts - lower back pain, tiredness, minor balance issues. And I'm sure that if I looked, I'd see that my fingers and toes are a little puffy. (But I'm not going to depress myself by doing so.) I'm sad that the joy of this little boy's coming has been overshadowed by Logan's illness; that revealing his gender - something we didn't even find out in advance with the first three - has become such an afterthought that I realized I hadn't even bothered to share it with a friend with whom I spoke at length this morning.

But anyway, I find that I'm having an increasingly difficult time producing particularly poignant or meaningful content here, so I'll let you all go for now. Please do continue the prayers for complete healing. Abby and Isaac miss their brother, and we miss having our family together and well. In addition, I could also use some extra peace tomorrow. Adam is supposed to talk to his boss about leave options, and I'm really worried over the financial implications. I'm bummed and mad that we've been pretty good with money all these years, yet we'll probably still take a massive hit, and it's not even our fault; it's not like we went out and bought a luxury car, took great vacations, re-did our house or otherwise blew through cash. So yeah: In a community filled with and often marked by conspicuous consumption, it's frustrating to have done the right things yet still be unsure of what will happen. (And in NO WAY am I asking for a thing other than prayer here - PLEASE don't misunderstand my rant!)

Blessings to you and yours.

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