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.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

September MRI

I'm sorry for being a bit late with this entry; I know there are a few of you who've been waiting to hear about the MRI for much of the day. It's just been a busy afternoon and evening and I simply haven't had the time to devote to it until now.

Logan's MRI proceeded as scheduled early this morning --from 8 til about 10-- and after a very (very) long late morning and afternoon filled with anxiety and plenty of 'help me, Jesus' moments, Philippa called Adam at about 3 with the radiologist's read. The news is mostly good, with a sprinkling of 'uncertain' mixed through. (Don't groan just yet; hear me out first. I have some perspective on it that's pretty valuable.)

His brain is stable. So none of the issues with his eye that have driven me to tears (and to the brink of insanity, if I'm being honest) have anything to do with tumor regrowth. It's likely that he is indeed plagued with nothing more than a lazy eye in that regard. The areas of known previous disease in his spine are also stable --no changes, no regrowth. Those are both awesome, awesome bits of news and we're very grateful for them.

The 'uncertain' part comes in now. There's a small new enhanced spot on his spine. Philippa said that it doesn't look like a nodule and that there's no sign of thickening, so it's not behaving like the spinal tumors he had previously. (Those presented, even at very, very early stages, like tiny pinpricks or nodules. This is flat, but it glows, for lack of a better way to express it.) Logan's primary was out of his office today, so he hadn't had a chance to review the images, nor had the radiation oncologist at Alta Bates. The radiologist at CHO wasn't quite sure what to make of it. It could be nothing. It could be a reaction to the radiation. (There was much surprise back in April when he finished his course of radiation and there *weren't* any weird-looking bits and pieces on his scan.) It could be something else. As of close of business tonight, no one was sure. Tomorrow, Adam will take him back to CHO for another MRI of the spot to take a better look at what's going on there.

Naturally we'd be happiest had the MRI come back completely stable (or even clean, with no scar tissue!), but we're pleased with the good parts of it. It's absolutely huge that his brain has been stable for so long, and it's wonderful that the areas where we knew he had disease in his spine previously are also still stable. I am, for the most part, at peace with it. I feel like it will be okay. I haven't really felt that way in a long while.

So why do I feel like it's okay? Because I'm standing on Mark 11. I'm making the conscious choice to have a radical sort of faith that will probably make me look a little nutty to some. (At least it puts me in good company; remember how many people thought Jesus Himself was crazy?) But I believe that the Word is the truth, that faith is power, that the Holy Spirit is alive, and that God wants Logan to be healed fully. So I'm living it, I'm telling the evil one to get behind me, I'm asking to be refilled with faith and hope and belief every single morning, and I'm commanding that mountain to move. I've seen some pretty amazing things over the past year, and I expect --fully-- to see more in the time to come.

This part will probably make me sound really loopy, but I think it's important to share it since it's on my mind. I'm actually a little grateful that we're getting the chance to really rely on faith again. We don't know what's going on, but I believe that it will be okay. Really and truly I do. I'm expecting God to show up again in a mighty way. I'm excited over it.

I thank you for praying with us, for joining me in telling that darn old mountain to move. This isn't my most eloquent entry ever, but I hope that it gets my fellow Believers fired up about faith and about what God can do through the Holy Spirit. Live it. Believe it. You'll see incredible things.


  1. So happy to read this. I've been thinking and praying for you through these days. I think you are such an amazing mother ~ thank you for sharing this joy with us.

  2. So good to hear about MRI and your strength and trust! Will keep praying! Keep holding on to mark 11! Nancy

  3. Yes, Sherry! You are moving that mountain!! Will try to do my part by continuing to pray.

  4. So happy to read the good news! Hoping everything goes well at today's MRI.

  5. I am in tears Sherry. So, so thankful for the news and for what God is doing in you personally. Thank you for the encouragement and for being so honest about your journey. God bless you and your family.

  6. hallelujah :)
    love you guys and am SO happy for some of these positive things from the MRI!!!
    still praying, hugs.