Tag: Chase

Dinosaur Poop And Life Lessons

This morning, a couple volunteers stopped by our room to check in. One volunteer brought blocks for the bed-bound, wiggly Chase, and the other volunteer brought a chunk of poop.
Yes, it’s true! This volunteer is a retired archeologist from The Field Museum who brought a chunk of fossilized dinosaur excrement for the kids to see and touch.
As I held the brownish rock in my hands, I turned it upside down to view the smooth, polished surface of a man-made cut. Imagine my surprise at seeing what looked like a beautiful crystal inside!
Given time and refining elements, something that was complete excrement is now a thing of beauty.
Call me crazy, but I suddenly felt like I was holding cancer in my hands… This life season that feels like nothing but poop, will in time, polished by the elements and circumstances, become beautiful.
I laugh at myself gathering deep insights from waste, but I am in awe of the timely reminder over the hospital bed.
Moment by moment.

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Days With No Answers

There are some days that I long for answers.

After being re-admitted to the hospital in Sunday’s early hours, Chase is driving me to that place. Why are the fevers so high when he still had white blood cells? Why is he so visibly ill when his tests are coming back negative? Why is his blood pressure so low ….does he need platelets …does he vomit even after anti-nausea drugs …why, why, why??

It’s days like today that I hear Tennyson in my head:

“Theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die…”

Is that the reality? To do and die?

Even as I question, I am reminded of the verse in Jeremiah:

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

If this life is full of God’s plans for me that give both a future and a hope, and I’d prefer not to face it like one of the six hundred riding silently to death, I ask myself…how should I respond to weary days with no answers?

Give thanks.

Give thanks even when it hurts. …when it aches …when there is no human reason for the pain and suffering.

“Give thanks in ALL things…” (1 Thess 5:18)

So this is my answer for today. I may not get the answers I crave for the child lying in the bed, but believing that whatever my God ordains is right and for His glory and my good can free my burdened heart for thankfulness.

Moment by moment.

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Of Spinal Fluid And Really Good Days

Heart in my throat, I looked at the doctor standing masked and gowned by the foot of Chase’s hospital bed. “Have you heard anything on the spinal fluid yet?”

Slowly, she lowered her mask and I could see her huge smile…“Yes. The fluid was negative.”

In shock, I asked her if she was sure it was Chase’s fluid as Bob laughed quietly from his place across the room.

Chase’s spinal fluid–this fluid that has been positive for cancerous, atypical and abnormal cells from day one–is weird cell FREE!

There is a cautious moment to this, as it does not mean that Chase is cancer free.  The true State of Chase is something that will be unknown for a while, hopefully only until his evaluation at the end of the month.

There is still a long road ahead for this little one. He’s only 14-16 weeks through a 51-54 week chemo protocol … Encouraging news to the little boy who burst into tears as he thought clear spinal fluid meant no more “fishy hospital.” (Oh, Chase…)

So, as I’ve written many times, we don’t know what’s ahead, but …
Today was a REALLY GOOD DAY.

Whatever may pass and whatever lies before me, let me be singing when the evening comes. Bless The Lord, O my soul!

Moment by moment.

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12.12.12

This was my favorite moment of Chase being born and Chase’s favorite picture of his birth because it shows that I too have had an IV in my hand

As I sit here contemplating 12/12/12 and the third birthday I have, at some moments, thought I wouldn’t see, I am overcome and don’t feel like I can adequately summarize this moment in Chase’s life, so here is what I would (and probably will) say to him:

My Dearest Chase,
Today you are three years old and even if you aren’t cognizant of it, this is a big deal.  Your Daddy and I have often wondered if you would live to see this day – and that was even before your “baseball“.  Since your “baseball” and your “cancers“, there have been many more minutes that we have stood by your bed or talked with your doctors and wondered if we would get to celebrate this day with you.  …and here you are!  Not only with us, but finishing all your brave days in your “spaceship“.  As we often whisper in your ear before you take your nap with the doctor: “Be strong and of good courage, for the Lord your God is with you.” (Joshua 1:9)
Son, Daddy and I are so proud of you.  You’re our favorite, bravest Chasey Bear in the whole world!
Love,
Mommy

Happy 3rd Birthday, My Precious Chase!

Joy comes in the morning… (I have much more recent pictures, but this is my favorite – that first smile post-surgery is a perfect summary to this little one’s year)

[Chase’s dictionary of terms: “baseball” = the tumor site (with it’s baseball-like stitching), “spaceship” = the proton radiation room]