Weakness and Strength

I came to a realization this evening as I spoke with a fellow mom during Abby's dance class. It's a pretty obvious one, but it seemed profound at the time. I was filling her in on the most recent mega-drama from Logan's journey and sharing my feelings with substantially more candor than I can usually muster during face-to-face conversations. As tears stung my eyes, she looked at me and said that she didn't know how I'd managed to not be 'like this' earlier on in the process. By 'like this', she meant vulerable, uncertain, fearful, outwardly worried and stressed over the virtual mess that's been my life for half a year now. (And it has indeed been half a year; today marked exactly six months since Logan's eye turned inward during that mundane-turned-fateful Sunday dinner.)

Anyhow, the realization?

I can't continue to be strong -- or hope to be in the future, for that matter -- if I don't first admit that I'm weak.

So it's out there: I'm weak. I'm really, really weak. I doubt God's intentions here, I doubt His goodness, I doubt my own ability to handle the coming months and the stress. Just call me Thomas(ina). I would say that those are bad things, but the other strange reality is that I don't think they are all that terrible. If I feel badly, I need to be honest about it so my praying friends can lift me up.

Now none of this is to say that I haven't been truthful about my feelings and my mood in the past, because I most certainly have. It's merely a confession that lately, it's been harder to cope with the weight of the path we're on.

So that's that.

Logan has been doing well at home these past few days. He's been eating reasonably well; this evening he actually finished his entire dinner plate (of his requested meal -- spaghetti and meatballs) and then requested an additional meatball. So I'm grateful for that improvement. He's also had plenty of energy, and managed to balance it out with an appropriate amount of restraint, which I'm certain is a challenge for a spirited 4-year old little boy.

One of his chemo port lumens was clogged when Adam tried to draw blood this morning, so we took him to CHO for de-clogging and spoke with Dr. T. while we were there. He confirmed the plan moving forward -- surgery, a single transplant cycle, radiation -- and expressed his regret that they'd missed the tiny spots on his spine that, in hindsight, were actually present on the December MRI. Had they been spotted, we would've skipped cycle 5 and gone straight to surgery, with the intent of getting through transplant and on to radiation as quickly as possible. He also noted that fortunately, the extra cycle hadn't resulted in negative progress with respect to the appearance of the tumors, but it's still disappointing to feel so far behind where we 'should' (though I use the term very loosely) be right now. But we can't go back, so there's no point in dwelling on what I can't change.

He also mentioned that the surgery will likely be scheduled for next Wednesday, the 23rd; Dr. Sun is still in the process of shuffling some previously-scheduled procedures to different dates in order to fit Logan in that day. So please hold up that date in prayer -- for Dr. Sun, for the OR nurses and other staff, for us as we await news.

As the conversation came to a close, I lamented with a wry smile that nothing about the treatment process had been easy or textbook so far, and that it would potentially make one heck of a book one day. Then Dr. T. said something that cut straight to my heart:

When you're dancing at his wedding, you'll look back at all of this and have quite a story to tell about what it took to get there.

I've never hidden my feelings about dancing with my sunshine here, but I rarely mention them when I'm out and about in real life. For him to use that particular line was just so special to me; almost like a gift from God.

That's it for now. I'm weak, I'm tired, I'm forgetful. I thank you for your prayers, even as I have trouble offering them up myself, and thank you also for recruiting additional prayer warriors to join our team. Enjoy your evening.