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.

Friday, February 11, 2011


Hopelessness is a strange bird: It's utterly draining -- physically, emotionally, mentally. So I suppose it's no great wonder that I'm so tired tonight. But after a few bad days, I'm trying to pull up my own bootstraps and emerge from the fog. Not because I don't 'deserve' to wallow a little; I maintain that I do. But because I discovered months and months ago that it doesn't help me at all to be angry and feel sorry for myself. I just forget and re-discover that revelation. Repeatedly.

This morning, I took Isaac and Brady by the preschool to drop off some Valentines for Logan's 'classmates'. I've mentioned it before, but he's been a 'silent' member of the class this school year, though he hasn't -- and won't -- attend a single day. We visited a little with Ms. Kelly, the director. And I have to thank her for helping me to take the first step out of my self-pity pit. She got out of her car, wandered over to mine, smiles like she often does, and said 'you're up! You're out! Despite all of the stuff going on, you're still up and out'. I responded with my usual, garden variety 'well, I don't have much of a choice', but you know what? I appreciated the remark. A lot. I felt validated. And every now and then, I need to feel validated. I need to hear a genuine 'hey, you look like you're doing well' that's not accompanied by pity eyes. Even if I'm absolutely dying on the inside, it's good to know that I don't look it on the outside every second of every day.

Afterward, we headed up to CHO so Adam and I could swap places. And it was a challenging couple of hours. Logan was cranky, sad, whiny. It grieved my heart to see him so upset; to hear him saying -- repeatedly -- that he didn't understand why he had to be there, that he wanted to go home, that he missed his sister and brothers and daddy. He's set to move out of the PICU and into a room on the 5th floor. As of this evening, they were simply waiting for a bed to become available. Prayerfully, that will happen SOON. He doesn't care one bit for the PICU, and I can't really blame him. Very nice staff, but a very noisy, hustly-bustly sort of place, no windows, no privacy.

The neuro team was to round at noon, so when they hadn't shown by one, I had the nurse, David, call to find out their plans. He told me it would be a few more hours as an emergency had arisen and Dr. Sun was in the OR, but not 5 minutes later, Philippa and Traci (Dr. Sun's PA) appeared. We had a good conversation which left me feeling better about everything, though I'm not competely without worry. After all, it's been a rocky, rutted path of late. I let them know that I was unhappy that we hadn't harvested enough stem cells after I'd hounded them about doing so after every single chemo cycle. I also shared my worries over delays.

The plan is for Logan to be discharged from CHO on Monday. He'll then return the following Monday for another MRI, and then a second attempt at the surgery. Dr. Sun will operate via the original incision site, since he still doesn't really understand what happened Tuesday with the new location and doesn't want to risk lightning striking twice. Since I can mis-hear things and tend to be melodramatic at times (shocking, I know), I confirmed with Traci that he'd never had that happen during surgery before, and she verified. I still think that's insane. And I think it was an attack. A flagrant, ugly attack. She also said that he was upset about it; of course he was. I felt badly for him when we found out what happened, and prayed that it wouldn't affect his confidence in the future. I told them that we still have full confidence in him, and they were pleased to hear it.

He's going to be discharged not because he needs a lot of extra time to heal physically, but mentally. Dr. Sun wants Logan to be feeling good on an emotional level as well as a physical one. Of course, it'll also help to have any and all swelling gone, but he needs to go back to CHO with a positive mindset. I confirmed with Traci and Philippa that seven extra days won't make a difference with respect to the tumor.

Post-surgery, which prayerfully will go well and be extremely, extraordinarily successful (get on the game big-time, warrior friends), we'll move on to transplant. I still don't know if we're doing one or two cycles; at this moment, we don't have enough stem cells to do two, but if Dr. Finlay from LA thinks two would be the best course of action, we'll likely go with a stem cell harvest the traditional way: 50 needle pricks in the lower back. It kills me to think of him having to endure that, since my understanding is that it's terribly painful, but Philippa assured me that he could be anesthetized. Sigh. My poor little guy. I've shyed away from agreeing whenever someone has said 'it's just too much!', but I'm beginning to agree: Logan is too good for all of this. Much too sweet, much too good. I'd be furious, if being furious wasn't so completely exhausting. And without point.

So that's where we are: About two weeks behind schedule. It's a scary place to be. Though I'm still smarting over the blows we've been dealt over the past weeks, I still ask that you all pray, and pray aggressively, for Logan's complete healing. I know that you are, and I thank you. Just please keep doing it. I'm sure that your prayers helped to keep him safe -- and truthfully, to save his life -- in the OR on Tuesday. So I also know that they can help keep the tumors stable for an extra 10 days as we await the second operation. Please pray over his upcoming time at home and the surgery that will follow on either the 21st or 22nd. Pray that God will guide Dr. Sun's hands -- as He no doubt did on Tuesday when he was able to stop the bleed quickly -- and that he'll be able to get the entire primary mass. It's hard to ask for big things because I'm terrified of yet more disappointment, but I also believe that you can't really receive what you don't ask for. So there it is.

Thank you for following along, sharing with friends and family, and praying for us. Have an excellent weekend.


  1. Oh Sherry. I so wish I had something to say that would take away all your fears and worries and doubts and hopelessness.

    We added another member to your prayer team today. The curtousy clerk at safeway has become our friend and tonight a fellow prayer warrior. We told her Logan's story and we stopped, in the parking lot, to pray for him.

    At the humn sing tonight we sang Ode to Joy. The second half of the first stanza reads, "melt away the sin and sadness, drive the dark of doubt away." These words hit me like a ton of bricks and I stopped to pray them for you. And I will continue to do so.

    Happy to hear Logan will be home next week. Wishing you all a happy valentines' day.

  2. I am praying everyday. But I will pray more aggressively too.

  3. I'm glad there's a solid plan in place. Praying for total healing.

  4. We're continuing to pray and are confident that the Lord is Logan's all-powerful, all-knowing, ever-present, loving, and faithful Physician and Protector. We will trust Him to bring Logan and all of your family through the remainder of this time of treatment, not just "somehow" but triumphantly!! Our prayers are with you every day, many times a day.

  5. Oh Sherry, what a beautiful post. I feel like I was in a pep rally or something. I will continue to pray the BIG prayers with you and for you. We must continue to ask in order to receive. I am so impressed with your encouraging interaction with Dr. Sun! The same way that your spirit lifted when the preschool director complimented you most certainly happened for Dr. Sun when you assured him that you KNOW he is the right surgeon for Logan and you trust him completely. What a gift! Sounds fabulous that Logan is scheduled to come home on Valentine's Day so that all the loves of your life can be together at HOME.

  6. Praying specifically, Sherry! :)

  7. Praying Logan's total healing, and that the next week brings him to a good spot for the next phase of treatment.

    And praying for peace and healing for your battered soul.

  8. Sherri,
    My name is Faith. I think I have posted before, but being of no brain when it comes to the computer, I may have failed.
    Though our daughter had a very different neurological disorder, we have been in the same desperate place you are. We have been praying for Logan and your family since a friend sent me your Blog in November, and we have requested that all the people that follow our caring bridge site pray for him as well. Thse people have had a great prayer warrior record so far!
    I write to you tonight to share a moment from our journey, in the hope that it will help you along yours. In the Spring of 2008, after a horrifying 2 year downward spiral for our daughter, as she lay in an experimental ketamine induced coma, I knelt in the chapel at Albany Medical Center. I had been praying for so long for her healing, for a return to her life, for our family to once again be whole. I had nothing left though, I didn't understand, didn't have any strength left. I realized I was kneeling in front of a depiction of 'the paralytic'. (Appropriate since our daughter had been uable to walk for a year and a half at that point). Anyway, as I knelt, crying, with no words left to speak to our Lord, I realized I had always been praying for what I wanted. I was terrified, but I felt there weas no other option, but to pray for what God wanted. That maybe God needed me to hand over all control to Him. So I prayed. I prayed that I would have the Faith of the paralytic. I prayed in surrender to Our Lord's Will; actually prayed those words, out loud through my tears. I prayed for His Will to be done, in all knowledge that He would give us Strength for whtever His Will was. I asked Him just to hold her in His loving arms. I offered her up to Him to care for because I couldn't do it any longer. There was nothing else to try to make her well. A great Peace settled over us then. The 12 days she was intubated was a healing peaceful time for our family. She was not suffering; we could sleep next to her, hold her hand, touch her without pain. We were able to heal,to gather strength for what was to come. God 's Grace was upon her. He stablized her condition. We were able to have Hope for the first time. Though it woud be a very long torturous journey, God gave us all the strength we needed.
    My point in telling you this long tale, is so that you too may have hope. So that you can know that all things work to good for those who love God. He will give you strength for the journey, one step at as time. When you get to the point of surrender He will carry you.
    I will pray tonight for God to touch Logan amd your family with His healing hands; to carry you along your way.
    Yours in Christ,