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.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

The Logan Update: 2/20/11

In less than 36 hours, Logan will return to CHO for the second attempt at his second resection. Neurosurgery. It's not something simple like a compound femur fracture or a busted lip. It's brain surgery; brain surgery on my darling, sweet, wonderful, spritely four and a half year old son who is obssesed with Cars, adores his big sister, finds tremendous delight in opening mystery eggs while playing Farmville and wows everyone he knows with his sunny disposition and incredible vocabulary. A surgeon will cut his head open, navigate through delicate and essential tissue, and carefully pick out chunks of material that should never have been there in the first place.

Even as I type, my heart cries out in protest. This kind of thing should never be necessary. Children, the little lambs of God, shouldn't be subjected to this kind of horror. But they are. And that's a hard truth to swallow. I'm sure that it's hard for you, my friends, to read about, but believe me when I tell you that it's innumerably harder for me to write it and to own it. I can't take a break from reading my blog when it gets too emotionally difficult to handle. No, this is my reality.

It still stuns me when I wake up in the morning and realize that this is my life. My once near-perfect, quiet existence has devolved into, for lack of an eloquent expression, a complete and utter mess.

I wish that I could say that I feel a satisfying, comforting sense of peace over everything that's happened and all that's to come, but I'd be lying. I feel worry, fear, anxiety, anticipation. At the same time, though, I feel a tinge of excitement, purely because it's exciting to feel like we'll at long last be taking another big step toward beating this beast once and for all. Of course, I wrote similar words a few weeks ago before the near bleed out in the OR, but they're no less true now than they were then. The fact of the matter is that in order for Logan to have a shot at kicking this cancer to the curb for good, the mass has to come out. Period. So onward we go.

It's been a pleasant weekend. The plan changed a little when Dr. Sun's nurse, Sue, called yesterday to say that the MRI would be today at 10 AM. Adam took Logan in while I stayed home with the other kids. When they returned, we all piled into the van and headed to McDonalds for late lunch. On the way, Adam remarked that the radiologist who had performed the scan said that the mass appeared to be stable since the last MRI, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. It's true that we've been the victim of mis-read scans before along this journey, but I won't let the memories crowd out the pleasure of those words. I'll simply thank God that the mass still looks relatively similar to how it looked weeks ago and call it a day.

Lunch was surreal, in a way; or as surreal as a meal at a fast food joint can ever be. We crowded into a big booth with a rounded bench and munched away. As I looked into the faces of each of my children, I felt a distinct sense of sadness over the uncertainty that plagues my family. It's painful to internalize how much they all love each other; how much they live for each other and how inextricably entwined their little lives truly are. They're the best of friends (and at times, the worst of enemies, but alas, that's the scourge of siblinghood, I think) and each has shaped so much of the others' personalities that together they create a perfect, priceless piece of artwork, one that's splashed with more colors than a simple spectrum could ever reflect. They may not represent perfect love, but they certainly represent deep, true love. And despite our less than ideal circumstances, we're blessed to see it displayed through all of them.

Heading into Tuesday, I can't help but feel like we need your prayers more than ever. It's a crucial day headlined by a crucial event. Please pray for Dr. Sun's hands to be God's hands as he works, and for great wisdom for him and his team. Also, pray for peace and strength for Adam and I as we wait. And as always, please pray for complete healing for Logan. I know that all it would take is a simple thought from God to make him well once again, and I pray for that with everything in me, with every ounce of energy I can muster, with every tear that falls.

Thank you, and have a blessed Monday.


  1. I and many others will be fasting and praying for Logan on Tuesday, that God guides the hands of the surgeons, that the tumor is all dislodged from the tissue and easy to remove. Praying for no complications for Logan and a quick recovery. Praying for peace and comfort for you and Adam, and all of your family.

    Love, Elizabeth

  2. I am praying for a quick recovery, for a wise surgeon and for your strength.

    Johns 6:19 - 20
    "They had rowed three or four miles when suddenly they saw Jesus walking on the water toward the boat. They were terrified, but he called out to them, "Don't be afraid. I am here!"

    Rowing three to four miles is long and painful. But in the end, Jesus was there! Your journey, your son's journey and your family's journey have been long and painful! I believe Jesus will be there for you here, too!

  3. Praying for you all.

    I thought your paragraph about lunch and the love between your children was especially beautiful. Though really, you have a way with words throughout all your posts that is quite amazing.

  4. praying always for Logan and your family but especially tomorrow, every hour I will pray for that darn tumor to be completely removed!!!

  5. You've definitely got our prayers! Praying for healing. For all of you! ::hugs:: Love you.

  6. Our prayers are with you many times each day, and we eagerly wait for Logan to be completely healed of these tumors. Praying for God's peace that passes understanding, and that He will keep your hearts and minds on Him. Hugs to all of you!

  7. " I know the plans I have for you", sayeth the Lord. "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you Hope and a Future."

    God is with you every moment, every breath, every beat of your heart. And His Healing Hands will be on Logan and guide Dr. Sun and his team. Give all your worries to God and breathe deeply. He will see you through.

  8. Been thinking about your family all day.
    I will be doing the same tomorrow and praying for your family and the Docs. You will be in my heart all day tomorrow.

  9. Dear Sherry, sending you lots of support, hugs and prayers. Good luck tomorrow! Please update as you know. Wrapping Logan in the blanket of our prayers.

  10. Praying constantly! Sorry I've been out of town and off line for a few days. I did hear of the date change while I was in Texas. Praying for complete healing and perfect peace for all of you : )

  11. Praying for your family. Praying for your precious boy.

  12. Sending prayers and love to your little boy. My thoughts will be with him and your family today!

  13. Praying, praying for all of you! Big prayers of an utterly successful surgery and continued healing afterwards. Prayers over all the precious siblings as they face such a big battle together that, for the most part, they can't even understand (as we can't).
    Praying, praying, praying.