The “NEDiversary”

This date marks another very special, stone-of-remembrance day.

One year ago today, we sat in a conference room with Chase’s doctors, staring at a large screen on the wall as it projected images of his brain from July 2012, October 2012, and finally, January 17, 2013.   The initial summer horror, the fall realization that treatment wasn’t making progress, and than this winter wonder…  On an MRI, cancer cells look like areas of white to our untrained eyes.  White balls, white spots, areas of white shading.  Before us now, we viewed pictures of a small child’s brain…with virtually no white.  In shock, we absorbed the words… “There appears to be no evidence of disease.”

I remember seeing their wary smiles and hearing the phrases of cautious optimism and not knowing how to respond.  They were telling us that Chase was okay without telling us that Chase was okay.  The tenuous relationship between pain and beauty, good and bad is everywhere.  The cancer appeared to be gone, but nobody trusted the take-no-prisoners classification of this “AT/RT”.  That struggle is reflected in the words I wrote a year ago today:

I’m wrestling as I write and erase, and write and erase again.  I don’t think I’ve ever written such exciting and positive news in such a tentative way.

This day is funny and strange, because happy news doesn’t erase Chase’s pain and suffering, even as it potentially extends his life.  There will still be fevers and transfusions and frequent hospital stays.

Many things ahead will be subject to constant change, but there are some things that will be as they have always been: God’s incredible grace to us, our complete need for Him to rescue us, and the never-ending necessity of living in a moment-by-moment existence.

As Bob and I prayerfully thanked God over Chase’s hospital bed in that first breath of knowledge, we were released from the cancer burden to exult.  And now, we turn towards what is yet to come, acknowledging that it is all–the good and the difficult–a precious gift.

Looking back a year later, it has been every bit of suffering and constant change that we thought it would be – plus, much more that we’d never dreamed of, but it’s also been a precious gift and God’s grace has abounded – often much more than we’d ever dreamed.

I closed those first tenuous thoughts with these words that ring as true as ever and are an often needed reminder as we prepare for another MRI, Chase’s first three-months-with-no-treatment MRI next month:

Our soul waits for the Lord; he is our help and our shield.  For our heart is glad in him, because we trust in his holy name.  Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you.  Psalm 33:20-22

Today, we celebrate one year with “No Evidence of Disease” – the NEDiversary, if you will… and we continue as we always have and always will…

Moment by moment.

[Thank you for continuing with us.  Your support means more than you know.]