"Live for the Miracle"

After listening to President Monson's talk about gratitude today, I realize that I can't keep putting off this post "until tomorrow." I usually post at night because I don't have the interruptions of three little boys, just occasionally a sweet baby girl. But lately I can't get myself to do it because I am too tired late at night. I also do most of my thinking in the late night hours and early morning hours. (And then I wonder why I am so tired!) So, this post is almost a week in the making.  It's also titled after a new friend's answered prayer. (More on that later...)

Last Tuesday, Josh had another marathon appointment day. First off was an MRI, blood work, consultation with the new Neuro-Oncologist Dr. Coleman, and then an infusion. 

After the MRI a month ago, I wasn't sure I could let myself hope for anything but the worst-case scenario. I kinda felt like if I just plan on the so-called inevitable, it wouldn't hurt as much. I would be more in control, more prepared, more capable.  

Much to our delight, the MRI was much better than last month! The tumor didn't absorb as much contrast, suggesting that the blood vessels feeding the tumor are not as active! In addition to the good news, I am so grateful for the new doctor at the Huntsman Cancer Institute. Dr. Coleman is their long-awaited Neuro-Oncologist who comes from the MD Anderson Cancer Center in Texas. He has been treating and studying brain cancer for nine-plus years, and I was SO thankful that he was patient and kind enough to thoroughly answer my 45 minutes of questions. I think that Josh was getting embarrassed, but after Dr. Coleman called my questions, "sophisticated" I didn't care anymore. I realized that he was acknowledging that my questions were good and important and that I had the right to hear the answers. I can't say that he gave me any answers that eased the uncertainty or reality of knowing that my husband has terminal brain cancer, but his answers were an answer to my prayers, lifted the burden, and somehow let me hope again. 

I know it is terrible to admit, but after Josh started having seizures, I really was afraid to hope. It's just what I said before, I felt like I could maybe keep my heart from completely falling apart if I was there ready to catch the pieces. Anyone who has been following my blog might remember how hopeful I felt in August after watching Josh run and play with the boys. I was so hopeful that after he had his first seizure I almost felt like it was Heavenly Father reminding me that He is in charge and that I must be willing to accept the Lord's will. 

After this visit with the doctor, I realized that it wasn't like the Lord was slapping me on the hand (so-to-speak), but that it is just part of the roller-coaster we've been riding for the last six months. We were able to have lunch with another couple who have been on the same roller-coaster for five years. (Yep, I said five years!) Our hearts were full of gratitude for their faith and perseverance in their trial. What great examples for us to look up to and learn from. In fact they were sharing a recent challenge, their struggle and then answer to prayer when I realized that the answer they received was the tender mercy I had been looking for. They said they had the impression to "live for the miracle." I immediately felt more of the weight lifting from my shoulders. I realized that I was physically and emotionally experiencing what I had been praying for. The atonement was healing my hurting heart.  I was feeling the peace I had been craving and yet fearing to allow myself to experience. 

Josh just took his last dose of chemo for this round and we will be going back at the end of the month for another MRI and consult with Dr. Coleman. Josh's birthday is this month. He will be 32. I am so grateful that six months ago the tumor was found and that we were able to meet with doctors and get Josh started on treatments. After his surgery, Dr. Jensen told my mom and I that it was probably aggressive enough that without treatment it could take him in 3 to 6 months. 

Well, he was able to started and continue with treatment and now it is six months later and while we are still taking it one day at a time, we are happy and hopeful. 

Our children are a joy and have been so good to sense when I need a love or a snuggle! They always seem to say the funniest things at just the right moments! Each one of them are tender mercies for which we are extremely grateful. 

This conference weekend was restful and healing. (I find it ironic that last conference weekend Josh was resting and healing from brain surgery!)

I hope this never seems redundant or loses its sincerity. We are grateful for all those who have wrapped their arms around us to build us up and strengthen our spirits. We are extremely thankful for prayers in our behalf and hope that those who are praying are aware that your prayers are being answered.  We feel of your faith!