Update - Rough Seas

We would appreciate it if you could add Harold to your prayers today. His condition has taken a sharp downward turn. 

Harold had gamma knife surgery on Tuesday. We were anxious to get it done as we knew he needed this follow up treatment to the area of his May 2nd craniotomy. There is always the hope that you just need one more treatment and you will be clear of tumors. The MRI prior to the gamma knife told a different story. Harold had six small new tumors in addition to the area already planned. One of these new tumors was putting pressure on Harold optic nerve, explaining the double vision he had just started to experience. 

That news alone was a blow, but it was followed by the word that gamma knife would not work on the area originally planned for the day’s treatment as the target had enlarged into a general area of concern. Additionally they could not use gamma knife on the optic nerve. A broader, gentler form of radiation was suggested, administered over ten consecutive days. The final piece of news was a recommendation that Harold have a PET scan soon as possible. The new tumors in his brain suggested that cancer was spreading in the rest of his body. 

Harold's surgon performed gamma knife treatments on all but two of the tumor areas, then sent Harold home to recover and process these new developments. A PET scan was scheduled for Friday along with doctor visits to plan the new radiation treatments.

Wednesday and Thursday were quiet recovery days. Harold was very tired, but that could be expected because of all he’s been through. He was particularly weak on Thursday night. I was grateful we would be seeing his doctors after the PET scan the next morning. I prayed that I would be alert to anything I needed to do in the night. 

I woke up around 4:00 am and noticed Harold breathing faster than normal. He seemed to be sleeping so I didn’t wake him but stayed alert to changes. Later when he did wake he seemed weak but otherwise fine, until he tried to get up. I helped him sit and then stand, but quickly discovered he could not support his own weight let alone move his own feet. I got him safely seated and ran for help. Preston and Rebecca were home and able to help me maneuver Harold out of the house and into the car. We raced to the hospital, calling ahead to the alerted the neurosurgery resident on call. 

Harold didn’t get the PET scan Friday or make any of his other appointments. Instead he spent the day in the Emergency Department overseen by a crowd of doctors. Initial exam showed his heart was racing and his oxygen levels were down. Later he spiked a fever and had sharp pains in his side. By mid day cardiac and blood clot issues were ruled out and there was a general consensus that most of his symptoms were caused by a seizure. The fever was a concern and prompted a round of IV antibiotics. Harold was admitted to the hospital for further observation. There was also a strong suspicion that the pain in his side was caused by tumor involvement in his liver. His PET scan, now rescheduled for Tuesday, will tell the story.

Harold’s oncologist took me aside to speak frankly about what this implies. I’m sure this good man and our strong advocate didn’t enjoy delivering the information he had to share any more than I enjoyed hearing it. If Harold has widespread cancer in his liver, there are no treatments left to offer.  

I returned home late Friday night exhausted, numb, and ready to cry. Actually, I did cry. Then I started thinking about the blessings of the day. I’d been prompted to action and had been able to follow through, getting Harold the necessary medical attention at the appropriate time. Two of our children were home to help. I would not have been able to move Harold on my own. I’d been able to give the doctors all the information they needed clearly and precisely. Rebecca had been able to stay with me all day, providing emotional strength while looking out for my physical needs. The rest of the family were prepared to come if necessary. 

Harold’s immediate condition improved Saturday. He was able to move, assisted by a walker, though still weak. He may be released to come home today. What comes next? 

I’ve had opportunity to reflect on the past 14 months as I also ponder next steps. We made a firm commitment at Harold’s diagnosis to choose faith. Should anything change now? Can we deny the miracles and blessings already received or the chance we’ve had to grow? Can  we deny the comforting feeling of being carried through our trials as if encircled by our Savior’s protecting arms? No.

We are still choosing faith. If it is our Heavenly Father’s will, Harold can be healed. That faith will not be swayed if it is not his will to do so. That faith is based on an absolute knowledge that our Heavenly Father has a plan for Harold and for you and for me. He knows our challenges and is ready to guide us through them. He sent his son, our Savior Jesus Christ, to show us how to live, to atone for our sins, and to allow us the opportunity to repent so we can feel the Spirit guiding us through the challenges of life. There is tremendous peace in that knowledge.

We also know we have to exercise faith. That means you persist, especially when seas are rough. We appreciate your faith and prayers in our behalf. The sustaining power of those prayers is real. It is through prayer, whether for ourselves or for others, that we are able to secure the blessings God is already willing to grant. It's our job to ask.