One year to the date since little girl got sick.
One year since “everything” began.
Since our life was turned upside down.
Since we were told that our almost-two-year-old had a 50% chance to live, that our baby, our little girl… might not make it.
That she had a massive, massive tumor in her brain. One that needed immediate operation – there could be no delay. Literally – the tumor was discovered on Saturday, and she was prepped for surgery on Tuesday.
Chemo started the very next week.
It’s been a year since all of this. And there are things that make me nervous.
Like knowing how quickly a cancer like this relapses.
Like knowing that if it does relapse, there’s very little road left.
Knowing that she has a genetic diagnosis that makes it almost certain that it will relapse.
And then there’s the illnesses. Random fevers, the most concerning, once or twice a month since at least last September – way more frequent than any healthy person. Doctors say her immune system should have rebounded by now, that it wouldn’t be causing these fevers.
And this nasty bug. This lingering, debilitating illness that hovers, sticks around, refuses to leave. Comforting is the fact that we’ve both had it – hubby for two weeks, myself for two days.
She’s had it for a week. Nothing like cancer to put an otherwise calm, laid-back mother on instant guard.
And the walking… that’s the scary one. Illness, one so nasty as this, can definitely cause trouble walking while one recovers, especially if that person has trouble in the first place. That is true.
All the same… it was the walking that triggered warning that something was wrong, that first time – exactly one year ago.
Just like this time.
She got sick. It was a nasty bug, a lingering, debilitating illness that hovered, stuck around, refused to leave. It left her wobbly, having trouble walking – and that led to the MRI that discovered the tumor.
History repeats itself.
“God’s got this,” You say. And so He does. But Him “having this” does not make it all right for me. He’s always got this – and yet, kids are still called to heaven. And if that’s His plan, so be it, I’ll still trust Him. But it doesn’t make it any easier.
“She’ll be fine – the scans will be clear.” Tell me, by what law in this wide universe can you make that claim? Because it’s not promised. There’s nothing that says she will be fine. She may be – but she may not be. We came through it once just fine – but so have others. It doesn’t mean we won’t have a second time around.
And there lies the rub, as the saying goes. It’s uncertainty that creates worry, that causes one’s heart to pound, the chest to tighten as breathing stops. Visions and memories crash through my head, images of a grapefruit-sized tumor, of my daughter lying unmoving in bed, not even responding to her parent’s playful gestures.
History repeats itself, they say.
I can only pray…