What To Expect When You’re Expecting To Read “Chase Away Cancer”

For the last several weeks, I’ve been getting feedback both on the idea of Chase Away Cancer and now on the finished book itself. Everyone is being so gracious, but there have also been some threads of question and/or doubt woven in that I’d very much like to put to rest.

So, what should you expect when you’re expecting to read this book? Here are the three most common points of feedback that I hear. I hope with all my heart that the answers put your mind at ease and prepare you to join us on the journey.


1. “Well, I probably won’t read the book because I’ve followed along with your blog the whole time, so I pretty much know the story anyway.

Yes…and super, really NO.

Yes, it’s true that if you’ve followed the blog or Facebook page, you have a good idea of where the story goes, however, this book was written from scratch (almost two whole times!) and while it holds some similarities (lessons learned, etc), this is the straight-up, dialogue-filled story of Chase’s diagnosis and treatment. I’m not kidding, you guys. You will be IN THE ROOMS with Bob and I as we make decisions on his treatment and life.

This is unprecedented openness for us — and it is so much so that over a dozen medical staff had to sign off on conversations and use of their real names. It’s so different from the blog in some ways that my own parents (with whom we lived during Chase’s treatment) read the book and immediately called us to say “Wow, we knew, but at the same time, we didn’t know…”

So, to sum up, put all ideas of a yawn fest aside. I kept you faithful story-followers and blog readers in mind when I wrote the manuscript – there will be plenty to learn, and dare I say, even …enjoy?


2. “I really want to support you and everything, but I’m really scared to read a book about a child who gets cancer.”

I would be too.

I can honestly say that if I hadn’t written this book, and somebody told me I should read it, I would probably approach it with some trepidation.

There will be some chapters that you’re going to want to have the box of tissues close, but there are other chapters that will make you laugh out-right and you’ll be shocked that you just giggled over a book with the word “cancer” in it. This is life with Chase. You laugh. You cry. And sometimes, you do both together.

My amazing editor and I (along with a gifted and highly skilled team) worked incredibly hard to make this book “breathable” – ie: you will feel what we felt in the sadness, but you’ll also feel our joy and you’ll find times to “breathe” and take it in as you read. In other words, you’ll get all the feels, but it’s unlikely to blindside you. This was written for joy and grace, not a shock value.


3. “But I don’t have a child with cancer.”

That’s the best news I’ve heard all day!

While it’s true that this book will probably speak most directly to parents of children with cancer, each chapter ends with something God taught us on the journey and the heart of the entire book is that LIFE IS MESSY, but GOD IS FAITHFUL.

So yes, your life might not include cancer, but don’t underestimate how the story might touch you, encourage you, or give you far greater understanding into the life of a friend who might be hurting.

Does that sound proud? I don’t mean it to be — but you guys, throughout this journey, I’ve been amazed that some of the greatest, most touching stories I’ve ever heard about what’s written on this blog came from people who were encouraged and given hope to carry on because they saw their infertility, their disease, their caregiving, their financial difficulties, their selling a house, etc, etc… (seriously, I could go on and on) through the same eyes as I saw a trial of cancer. Yes, my difficulties might look different than yours, but stress is stress and in that, there is a really incredibly universality in Chase’s story.


So, won’t you join us?

*Have other questions or concerns? Please let me know! I’d love to answer them.*

Moment by moment.

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Chase On His MRI [VIDEO]

The sun is only hinting pink when I feel another presence on the edge of the living room.  This is what he does, my early-rising boy… He wakes before it’s light, tip-toes out to wherever a parent can be found, and stands quietly, thumb in mouth, waiting for someone to see him and call him into the light.

Still rumpled and rosy from sleep, mismatched in his Lightning McQueen bottoms and a shirt that announces “I fight cancer. What’s your superpower?”, he jumps onto the couch and snuggles close.  His talk turns to the subject that has been plaguing him for about a week now: the upcoming MRI.

The questions come as they do every day; several times a day: …When is my MRI? Will there be ‘beeping’? Will I have a needle? Can I eat? Who will go with me? Will you come back to me?…  They come with heartbreaking regularity and the answers are always the same.  In a life that’s anything but predictable, he can at least rely on the same answers to these small questions that are so very big to him.

In a day, he’ll wait in pre-op for almost two hours after having gone nearly half a day without food or drink.  They’ll lull him and then hold a mask over his face while he lays on the threshold of the machine with no parents in sight to say “It’s okay, sweet boy.” And while he sleeps, they’ll put a needle in his arm to keep him hydrated and inject dyes and he’ll be in the machine for nearly two hours – the only blessing: he’ll be mercifully unconscious.

You hear from me on this subject early and often, and in the last part of the last year, it was often-er than not.  My words hardly change…we can’t, we must, we wonder, we shouldn’t, God is good.  Always.

So today, hear Chase.  He’s about 24 hours away from a big MRI and he’s scared.  He also wasn’t sold on the idea of a video until I promised him that he could hold his father’s tape measure.  This is what the early morning and late nights look like…the twisting mouth, the working to remember words, the thinking about mosquito bite scars on top of his skin rather than the potential of cancer growing under it.  He’s part boy, part wise far beyond his years, part broken by his treatment and tumor…and he’s all Chase.

Moment by moment.

*Note: His last words are “I want Mrs. Schneider to pray for me.”  That is the name of a dear friend who -because Bob needs to work tomorrow- will be accompanying us to the hospital so that I don’t have to be alone on MRI day.  Chase knows that while we can’t be with him, Janet and I will be praying for him in the waiting room while he’s in the MRI. 

Answering Questions

Since Chase’s most recent evaluation, we have received quite a few inquiries which have led us to compile a list of frequently asked questions.  Feel free to tack on other questions in the comment section at the end of this post.  Our hope is that this assists in both the understanding of Chase’s treatment and gives a small window into the life of a pediatric cancer patient (a world in which Chase is one of way too many).

1. Why does Chase still need chemo if the cancer is gone?
This is probably the question we hear most often, and here’s the answer.  The scans showed that the tumor deposits are gone and while they don’t see any more tumor or cancer cells, he isn’t considered “cancer free” because there could be more cancer cells free-floating that just haven’t manifested themselves at this time.  And even if his body was completely cancer-free at the moment, this is a vicious, virulent cancer known to recur in the first 18-20 weeks after diagnosis.  Think of it like a weed in your garden or yard: not only would you pull out the weed that you see, but you would also desire to make the ground (via a weed killer or the like) as inhospitable an environment as possible for the growth of any further weeds.  Think of this stage of chemo as both an errant weed killer and a future weed deterrent.

2. How much more chemo does Chase need?
The chemo schedule (or “protocol“) that Chase is on calls for a total of 51-54 weeks of chemo.  At this point, he has completed 17 weeks or cycles (it’s actually been closer to 20 actual weeks that have passed as his earlier chemo dates were often slightly delayed by his fevers and low counts).  He will probably complete his chemo regimen around the first anniversary of his surgery and diagnosis.

3. Why does Chase still get fevers and need blood and platelets if the cancer is potentially gone?
Chase still gets fevers and needs transfusions because those are side effects from the chemo, not the cancer.  And yes, it is harsh… but dying of brain cancer would be more harsh.

4. Can this kind of cancer spread?
In a manner of speaking, yes.  For more technical information on this, I’d highly recommend checking Wikipedia’s AT/RT link.  In laymen’s terms, I can tell you that AT/RT has rarely been seen to spread beyond the brain and spine.  On occasion, it does move to the kidneys, but that usually only occurs with the genetic form of the disease.  Hence our flying Chase’s tumor to Boston to be studied by a geneticist and having his kidneys checked (it was concluded that Chase does NOT have the genetic form of AT/RT).  Could he possibly be at a heightened risk for more cancer and other cancers in his lifetime because of his AT/RT?  Very probably.  But it’s not happening today, so we’re not going there today.

5. Chemotherapy vs. Radiation?
In Chase’s case, he needed both.  His protocol calls for a chemo induction, then a reduced chemo schedule during radiation, and pending a good evaluation, a slightly reduced chemo schedule for the duration of the 51-54 weeks.  Evidence suggests that they have not had success curing AT/RT without some form of radiation.

6. Does Chase understand cancer and his diagnosis?
Chase understands that he doesn’t feel well and that there are all sorts of things that have to happen to him, but he has no paradigm for words like “terminal” and “malignant.”  Not only is he just three, but he’s probably suffered some memory damage, so it’s actually a little unclear on how much of his life he even recalls before his diagnosis.  To him, being in and out of hospitals is just a way of life.  In fact, he loves his hospital because he’s a bit of a big deal. 🙂

7. What does Chase eat?
Nothing.  Many of the chemo drugs give him nausea and a couple of them give him painful sores that can go anywhere from his mouth to his esophagus and even intestines.  Early on in his treatment, Chase was put on an IV nutrition system to ensure that his body maintained nutrition, weight, electrolytes, sugars… all the essentials needed to survive.  As of today, Chase is attached to a bag for 16 hours of every day.  He does at times put a bite of food in his mouth, but usually spits it back out. 

**Sidenote: Chase “attaches” to the bag through his central line – what is basically a surgically inserted tube into an arterial vein in his chest.  The tube splits on the outside of his skin so that there are two lumen (or small hoses) through which he can be “accessed.”  When he is not accessed (meaning the tubes are not in use), they fold up neatly into an ace wrap that covers his chest.  This is the site that needs the dressing change every week.  Because of this, Chase is at increased risk for things like infection and pulmonary embolism.  However, the benefit is that he is virtually “needle free.”  All labs, chemo infusions, and most medications can be administered in his line which is such a blessing!  For this, we are more than happy to figure out the no swimming, no bathing, “carry a crash kit everywhere you go” lifestyle of a small child with (in his own word) “tubies.

8. Does Chase sleep?
The answer to this question is multi-faceted and best-answered “at times.”  The chemo and (especially) radiation have highly affected his sleep patterns so he suffers from disturbed sleep.  Every night is not created equal.  Some nights, he’s up only a couple of times, and others, it’s every 20-30 minutes all night long.  For now, there are two things we know about this issue: it’s almost guaranteed to happen every night and, per a word with his attending oncologist, doctors have seen sleep improve greatly when chemo is done. 

9. What are the long-term effects of this cancer and the treatment on Chase?
This is a question we don’t have verbalized to us very often, but I think it’s one that everybody considers, so I’d like to try and address it a little even though it’s hard to define at this particular moment.  We know that due to the tumor placement and size, there was most likely some brain damage, especially in his memory center.  Not so much like amnesia; more as in damage that will cause him to struggle to make memories in the future.  We also know that a couple of the chemo drugs Chase is taking could likely damage his heart and his hearing.  This is why he gets (and will get for the rest of his life) scheduled EKGs and hearing tests.  In fact, we have already seen small evidences that his hearing is changing.  Lastly, we know that the radiation (even proton radiation) is known to cause brain damage and stunted spinal growth (not in all cases, but Chase had his whole brain and whole spine radiated).  This is at times hard to discuss because many of these potential difficulties to overcome are based on our treatment decisions and are (at this moment) hypothetical.  What we know right now regarding Chase’s future is what we’ve always known to be true: our hope and joy come from God alone.  I so love the phrase coined by the mother of another brain cancer patient: “Defined by God, not by cancer.”  So we will meet and undertake each new facet of Chase as it becomes apparent… moment by moment.

I believe that it is very easy to get overwhelmed by all these definitions and descriptions.  In fact, I get a tightness in my chest every time I list all these things we do in a single day and all the life-time implications they hold.  With this in mind, let me end these questions and answers with a reminder–to myself and to any and all who read: Chase was designed this way by God.  God has–in His all-knowing, perfect and loving mind–designated cancer as the awful yet awesome refining for Chase and, by extension, our family.  We will consider it joy then, because we will someday see Jesus, and be perfect and complete (James 1).  And in whatever life God has for Chase, we see promise because we know that he has been fearfully and wonderfully created by a God who loves him more than we can fathom (Psalm 139).

Moment by moment.

Don’t Eat the Landscaping

Recently, as I was picking up* my house, I ran into a pair of my shoes (that I’d been searching for all day) sitting on top of the coffee table.  Where had they been before landing on the table?  I can only speculate …

*one of my endless side notes: I had to include the information that I was picking up the house.  It needed to documented.  It happens so rarely.  Ask my husband.

This made me think though … how much time I could lose every single day in fruitless speculation over how things got to be where they currently are when I find them.  My children seem to be masters at putting things where they absolutely shouldn’t go (including at times, THEMSELVES), and short of bubble-wrapping the entire house as a child-proofing measure, I’m slightly at a loss.  Still, when I’m not in the stress of the moment, they make me laugh hysterically (maybe too hysterically).  So, please feel free to enjoy some amusement at our expense … someday they’ll be geniuses, right?

Here are some of my favorite questions from the past few weeks …

Why is there a graham cracker in the VCR slot?

Who put Daddy’s tie on the dog?  (toy dog … our kids are our pets right now, thank you very much)

Why are there match sticks in the door jamb?  …and for that matter, how did you get matches?!

Why are you eating Grandma’s landscaping?

Why is there a half-eaten lollipop stuck to my dress pants?

Why is Daddy’s cell ear-piece in the high chair?

Where are my keys?  …and why are they in the pac ‘n’ play?

Who locked Mommy’s bedroom door and then closed it?

Who took the toilet paper (cardboard) tube out of the recycling? …and ate a bite out of it?

How did Chase get stuck in the bunk bed ladder again?

How did this sippy cup get in my bed table drawer?

Why are there action figures in the bathroom magazine basket?

And, my absolute favorite …

Why are you sitting in the refrigerator?

Ever asked yourself a crazy question like this?  Please share.  I need to know I’m not alone.  Or at least, that I’m not the only crazy one.