I remember the August 10th day specifically because there was a bad storm. It was hot, humid, and dark the afternoon a summer thunderstorm hiding a tornado ripped through our suburban town, taking trees and power and the downtown church steeple along with it.
Our family packed bags in the dark and went to stay somewhere with electricity and internet, but I remember the date because it was the first time I saw Chase’s bruises.
That night, at the grandparents’ house, as I bent over Chase to inject the growth hormone into his upper thigh, I realized that there were small purple and black marks along his white skin – almost as if the nightly injections were causing injury. If they were on his shins, I might have looked to his brothers, because young boys are always running into and over things, but these were up too high, too far away from regular contact areas.
So, the next day, I spent long moments on the phone with multiple hospital teams. And somehow, in the next few weeks, they changed the injection medication and checked all the other medications from every other discipline he sees. But nothing matched, and Chase began to lose weight, complaining of stomach pain all the time.
All of the gastro tests came back fine, and then the preliminary bloodwork for blood cancers came back fine. And we talked about other, more invasive options for testing, but it seemed like there was too little to go on. So we waited.
For two months, we waited.
It turns out that sometimes time proves to be its own answer. Because the longer the bruising lasted, the more worrisome it became, simply for continuing. Not the worrisome of a terrifying specter, but more that of a niggling doubt – the quiet “what if” whisper that keeps you up at night.
So, after two months, the teams finally scheduled Chase for a bone marrow biopsy. It was time to conclusively rule out things like blood cancer, marrow cancer, and even the possibility that the thyroid cancer still tucked into lymph nodes around his throat had found his bones too.
And on Friday afternoon, Chase’s preliminary results were released…
He is clear of these scary cancer pieces and we are so thankful.
After two months of no answers, we now know what it isn’t – and with a child like Chase, that is a big victory. So, for now, we are watching Chase’s diet and skin very carefully. Lab results show his nutrients are near perfect, despite his weight loss, and we continue to work with his teams to take care of him and make the best of whatever this is – secure, for the moment, in what it is not.
So, after two months, it would seem we can finally take a deep breath, finally just settle down to another school year, and time with the family, and just being…
However, on the day of Chase’s biopsy, the doctor performing the procedure came to speak to me while he was in recovery – two days before we found out his results. “Have you had that mole along his spine checked?” Her face was quite serious. “I don’t want to alarm you, but that is right along where he was radiated and I think you need to get it checked as soon as possible.”
Oh, dear ones, so, it would seem that we put one round of cancer concerns to rest only to begin another on Monday afternoon when he sees his oncology team with a dermatologist. And yes, skin cancer does not hold the deep fear of bone or blood cancer, but when I told Chase, he scrunched up his nose with a little growl and said; “too many cancers”. And he is not wrong.
When the doctor left the procedure room after telling me to check his skin, I actually laughed, not because it was funny, but because coming out of the operating room on an exploration for leukemia and worrying instead about skin cancer felt utterly ludicrous to me!
There simply aren’t words in this language to express the sheer insanity of this cancerous journey we seem to continuously be on. It is horrific, which is why we acknowledge research efforts, awareness months, and so many stories around us.
But Chase’s journey is also precious because he lives and the story has never been so clearly and apparently out of our hands. He could have been totally healed a hundred times now, and he could have been gone at least a dozen times I can think of in the last decade, and yet, Chase is still here and the journey continues. And I don’t know the reason, but I believe there is at least one, if not a hundred…or ten thousand.
So, yes, it is “too many cancers”, but nothing is “too many” for our loving Father.
Purpose in the journey…hope along the way…choosing thankfulness with defiance… moment by moment.
“You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.”
Psalm 139:16 (NLT)
