Hope for the best, Prepare for the worst. This is the underlying motif of human existence. You are hoping against hope for three years. You are prepared to take the next tortuous step toward a dead end; and a miracle happens you don’t know how to respond. To capture the moment we have called upon the wisdom of a previous generation; In the eternal words of Great Auntie Pat, “We were gob smacked”. Or “flabbergasted”; or subject to “shock and awe”; or . . . . Nana’s adage of being ‘knocked down by a feather’ or any other aphorism expressing the act of being stunned cannot do justice to the events of the past week.
First an apology; this news should have been shared as soon as we heard it as proof of the power of prayer; positive thinking, caring and compassion. Evan’s tumors are smaller. Let us repeat that: Evan’s tumors are smaller. And now for the rest of the story . . . .
Wednesday July 28 was a long day at the hospital. In an attempt to evaluate the current status of the tumors; and to establish a baseline for evaluating next treatment steps; and to provide the latest information for NIH; Evan was subjected to a full battery of tests. And by the time you’re done with a day like that you would feel like you had been hit by a broadside of the King’s finest cannon. Start with an MRI, then move to point B and have a CAT scan, then move to point C and have a Chest X-ray while you drink a quart of delightful contrast dye, then back to point B to be abused by a Radiology Technician (Sorry Alicia, we know he doesn’t represent all RTs), Then to point D for a medical conference, point E for central line access, point F for a pulmonary function test, back to point E for a blood draw. Phew we’re exhausted just recounting the day.
As we sat waiting at point F; Paul received a call from a number he didn’t recognize. And the following dialogue ensued
Excited voice, “Their smaller!”
Paul, “Who’re smaller?”
More excited voice, “Evan’s tumors, they’re smaller”
The next part of the day is a little blurry. Tears, laughter, awe, joy, prayer, stunned silences. For the next 48 hours we were all in a haze and constant requests to ‘pinch me?’ for confirmation of the here and now. At the same time there was an underlying fear that there might be a phone call indicating that a mistake had been made in reading the scans. We suppose understandably human, a tempering of unbounded joy. Then we received an email with actual dimensions, and this is where you will join us in both unbelief and awe of the God’s healing touch. The largest tumor had shrunk to less than 30% of its previous size 90 days before. After 3 years, multiple surgeries, and countless prayer; Evan has won a battle in this war.
And it is this understanding that it is but one won battle and not the end of the war that is guiding our continued request for your thoughts and prayers; it is why we will still be going to the NIH next week, and why we will not stop in our pursuit of answers to questions that our God has raised in the care of Evan.
Thanks be to you for your compassion, thoughts and prayers; Thanks be to God for his awe inspiring healing touch as it is applied in our lives, and especially for His touch in the life of Evan.