The Logan Update: 2/28/11

The past several days have been very challenging for me. Fortunately, Logan has handled them with the same grace and joy with which he's handled almost everything about the past six and a half months, so I'm grateful for that. But I'm tired. Drained.

This morning we had the consult with Dr. Chung, the radiation oncologist at Alta Bates. While I know intellectually that we're doing what we have to do to try to save his life, my heart cried out in protest as she went over the protocol and the long-term effects. It's absolutely crushing to think about radiating my dear, sweet little boy, this child who I carried in my womb and birthed and have loved so dearly for the past several years. It's crushing to think of his beautiful eloquence and intelligence being affected by this horrible, awful decision we've had to make for him. It's crushing to know that he'll lose most of his hearing, that he'll have trouble learning down the road, that his growth could be stunted. I continue to realize that people can be cruel and I'm acutely aware that we're setting him up to be the object of much ridicule later in life.

But at the same time, I also know that our goal here is for him to have a life, and that it wouldn't even be a possibility for him without undergoing radiation. It's times like this that I feel indignant, angry, defiant: How could this be happening to him? How? It's beyond infuriating. It's so grossly unjust that there simply aren't words. But again, we long for him to have a life here, so we do what needs to be done. And I feel a modicum of peace over it all. The past days have been nothing short of torturous for me as I felt my hope wane to the point of despair, but there's something renewing about beginning a new form of treatment. There's the promise of something better around the corner.

So he'll begin craniospinal radiation early Thursday morning. The first few weeks will target his entire spinal column as well as his entire brain, while subsequent weeks will focus on the spots that have hosted known disease, for a total of six weeks of treatment. The doctor prescribed a new course of decadron that he's to take for the next week to try to stave off any swelling that might occur. Given the proximity of one of the tumors to his spinal cord, it's a precaution that we need to take.

As of now, we're toying with the idea of taking the kids to Disneyland this weekend, before the side effects kick in and Logan is too tired and too sick to travel.

Please continue praying for Logan's complete healing and for our family. Please pray that the known spinal tumors -- and any others that have rooted themselves in his little body -- will be kept at bay until radiation begins Thursday. Please pray that the radiation will be outrageously successful and that the doctors will be surprised by its effectiveness. Please pray for peace and wisdom for Adam and myself; we're both drained -- empty beyond empty. And we're scared and worried and struggling to hold on to hope in the face of so much crushingly bad news. Pray for widsom for all of the doctors and for peace and joy for Logan as this next phase of treatment begins and progresses. Please pray that the side effects will be as mild as possible; that the Lord would be merciful to Logan in this way, particularly given how very, very much he's already had to endure. It takes my breath away when I consider how much he's had to take at such a tender age.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support and your prayers. They mean so very much. Blessings to you.