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.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Appendicitis? Maybe.

That's right: Appendicitis. The doctor was concerned about Logan's tummy pain so they did an x-ray and a CT scan of his stomach this evening. The good news is that he does not appear to have a necrotic disease that has a 50% mortality rate. The not-so-good news is that his appendix is swollen. The surgical team is apparently studying the scan to see how they want to proceed. And me? I'm a holy wreck.

I feel a wide range of emotions. None of them are good or sweet or sticky or particularly productive, but they are what they are. And I'm entitled to feel them. I am, to put it gently, drowning right now. I've spent much of my life trying to do the right things. I know that it doesn't really matter; bad things happen to good people, good things happen to not-so-good people, and life is simply unfair. But I've just about had it, with a capital H. The whys of Logan's illness haunt me. The worry is mind-blowing. The pain? Forget about it. You can't even come close to imagining it unless you've worn shoes similar to mine. And if you have, I applaud you for still maintaining your sanity because mine is so cracked that it probably won't hold an ounce of liquid.

I don't understand why we can't have a prolonged period of peace. I don't understand why Logan may be facing yet another surgery. I don't understand why it seems like God Himself, the creator of the universe who is supposed to be loving and kind and gracious, seems like anything but a loving being. It's been an excruciating year. It may be greedy of me, but I want peace. I want this crap to stop. I want my life back, even if it's not perfect and it's not exactly the same as it was before --it never will be; I know that. But my soul craves a semblance of normalcy.

I wrote this on Facebook a little while ago, but it's how I feel so I'll note it again: It's a good thing that God never gives up on us. Truly it is. But I'm in a place where I'm very close to giving up on Him. My heart is broken, my body is exhausted, and I feel completely defeated.

There. I said it. I know I'll change my mind some day. I always do; that's the way this journey goes --I swing from one emotion to another, so I know an upswing will come. Eventually.


  1. Ugh. So completely unfair and sickening.
    I am so so sorry that this is happening, and especially at a time that is fragile, this one year mark.
    Praying for healing ~ whatever that looks like. I hate to even think surgery, but if he must then I pray God keeps him safe during and for quick recovery after.
    I hate that you guys can't have peace. As much as I love to see updates to know what's going on with Logan, I briefly hope for a lack of posts before I come to blog (thinking that life is uneventful...in a good way.)
    Prayers, hugs, and lots and lots of love to all of you.

  2. Mercy, peace, strength, endurance, and restoration: Our prayer for Logan, you, and your family.

  3. I continue to pray for healing both physical and emotional for Logan, you and the entire family. May God grace you with his peace.