On the 'sad over a happy thing' side, Brady took his first steps. His first five, actually, from Adam to me with Logan looking on. He's a week and change short of being 9 months old. A little daunting to think of someone so tiny puttering around on equally tiny feet, but we've always had early walkers.
On the 'completely terrified and unsure of what to do with myself' side, Logan's eye somehow managed to look even worse than it did yesterday and the day before and the day before that. It's terribly off-center. And I'm not sure, but it may have lost some range of motion. It's hard to tell since I've been so obsessive about testing him lately; the constant checks have made him increasingly non-compliant over the past weeks.
I vasciallate between completely losing it and feeling a semblance of calm, though more often than not I'm in full-on panic mode. I came completely unhinged at dinner time, and excused myself to my room to try to reign in my fears. I called out, cried out to Jesus for help, inspiration, confirmation, anything. But for some reason, nothing obvious came, just the same fleeting words I'd heard (or at least imagined hearing) several times today and yesterday: Things are not always as they appear. Things are not always as they appear. And I remembered once again the healing stories of last Fall; the ones that came to me when I felt alone in the dark and needed a light to pierce the overwhelming blackness. But I don't know if those words were from my own mind, or if they were given to me by God.
I finally managed to feel a sense of peace when I clutched my pillow and spoke aloud, saying the same phrase over and over again until I could feel it resonating throughout my body: Jesus, You have dominion over Logan's cancer. Once I began to feel a sense of calm, I added and I believe that You will heal him, and restore him to our family. I don't know how long I recited the words, but I felt better when I finally got up and rejoined my family.
I think Adam and I are both disconcerted over what we're seeing. We'll call Philippa tomorrow morning, explain what we've seen, and then see what the team thinks we should do.
Thnk you for continuing to pray for us, for Logan's healing, and for the doctors responsible for his care. Move, mountain. Move.