“The spinal fluid is still positive.”
These words washed over me almost a year ago now…weeks before radiation and clear scans. I stood next to the hospital bed where Chase slept and tried to take it in. Still? So much chemo, yet the cancer lived on?
I turned to the doctor and asked the awful middle-of-the-night question that was always in my head but never, until this moment, on my lips: “If it doesn’t clear… How does this end?”
She looked at me -perhaps questioning whether I needed to know in that moment- the compassion and concern evident in the lines of her face. And then she went on to gently explain the last days of this awful brain cancer when every option is exhausted. Her words gave me an odd comfort. I had pictured something completely different and felt a tiny relief around the pain in my heart to think that Chase would sleep more and more until he never woke in this life again. It sounded… peaceful.
On that day, I wept, and I stored her words away for another day that I still pray I never see.
Why share this now? Because my heart is heavy for the Fair family. A family of 6 whose darling baby girl, hardly older than Chase, diagnosed with the same cancer, in the same year, having gone through the same treatment… Phoebe… She’s in her eleventh hour. She’s their atypical miracle and they’re praying for another miracle even now as the veil grows thin.
These are dark things and not for the faint of heart, but I’d so encourage you to take a moment and read what Amey has written. It is more of the beautiful ugly…the precious pain that draws us nearer to God even as our minds scream “No! This shouldn’t be! Come quickly, Lord Jesus!”
Please join us in praying for the Fair family today. They wait expectantly…
Moment by moment.
For more information on Phoebe Fair and the Fair family, please visit her mom, Amey’s blog: www.anatypicalmiracle.com
**On Saturday, October 5th, at 10:30pm, the soul of Phoebe Fair took flight. Home with Jesus forever. -MbM-**