This post is #102 in a year-long series ... Through this series of posts I plan to share our family's experiences during our 17-year-old daughter's year-long battle with brain cancer, which began in February of 2008. My desire is to process through the events of that year from the perspective that a decade of time has brought ... for myself, really. But if you'd like to follow along, you're welcome to join me.
I'm not normally a crier...I hate to cry in front of people, even my own family members. I don't even cry very often when I'm alone. But there are times when the tears get started and they just won't stop.
Ten years ago today was one of those days. I had an appointment to get a haircut that day, and I almost canceled it because Hannah was still so sick. But I decided to go ahead and go ... I had a feeling it would be awhile before I had another opportunity for a hair cut.
It had been seven months since Hannah's surgery, and she had had several reassuringly-clear MRIs. But the intense nausea she had been experiencing over the last several days along with increased dizziness and some balance issues had become very alarming, and an MRI was scheduled for the next day.
Ever since our trip to Tulsa for the American Idol concert, I had known, deep down inside, that the cancer was back, and I was already beginning to see signs that Hannah was leaving us bit by bit.
I walked into the beauty shop that day and the first thing my hairdresser asked was how Hannah was doing. I immediately started crying and did not stop the whole time I was there. My appointment included highlights and a haircut that day, so I was there for a long time. It wasn't a sobbing, noisy kind of crying ... just a steady flow of tears that I could not stop. I clearly remember feeling the tears running into my ears as the beautician washed my hair in the sink. Since I am incapable of talking while I'm crying, I couldn't even tell her about the MRI scheduled for the next day. In fact, I'm not sure I even spoke to her the whole time I was there. I just cried silently.
Thankfully, she understood, and kept up a one-sided flow of words the whole time, without requiring anything from me. I can't imagine what the other customers thought about me. I was so relieved when the appointment was over and I was finally able to escape.
I knew. I just knew.
None of this foreboding was revealed in my email ten years ago today ...
Well, Hannah woke up sick again this morning, so we are heading to Children's Hospital tomorrow to see her doctor there. She was supposed to have an MRI on September 29th, but the doctor has re-scheduled it for tomorrow afternoon. He wants to be sure the continued nausea is not related to any changes going on in her brain. We still feel reasonably certain that the nausea is due to a stomach virus, but it will be good to get it checked out. Please join us in praying for clear MRI scans tomorrow!
Isaiah 26:3 - You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.
God is good, all the time! Thank you for your prayers!
Jill and Brad