Update 2/2/2014: The Fight Is Far From Over

I feel like every day since Dad's diagnosis I've been blown away by the kindness of people. Dad's fight is far from over, as if you were to research his type of brain cancer (Glioblastoma Multiforme), the statistics and description would shock and terrify you. Glioblastoma: The Most Aggressive Type of Brain Tumor. It's a description that I think about daily. It's a description that I wish would go away. But, as much as this description terrifies me, as much as the statistics give me anxiety about the future, it's been people who have helped to keep me level during this experience.

Dad's news of remission traveled fast- as I couldn't type a status quick enough on Facebook to let everyone know our results, and I sure couldn't type fast enough to send out a mass text message to almost every person in my phone. I've been stopped so many times by people to congratulate Dad on his news and I've been stopped so many times by people who just want me to tell Dad they asked about him. To know my Dad has had this impact on people, so much of an impact that people go out of their way to ask about him or talk to me about him, means the world to me. Not everyone in my family handles this situation the same- as I am extremely open about our struggles, our fight and our triumphs. Being this open means my friends and family have seen me at my best and have seen me at my worst. Every day is a struggle. Every day I wake up hoping Dad had a good night and every day I continue to pray for Dad to continue fighting and strength for Mom. 

A former teacher of mine was at a wedding shower recently and was asking what I was doing, where I was living, etc. This teacher had a huge impact on my life- as she was someone I always looked up to, and someone I greatly respected. I was talking with her and mentioned something about my Dad- she had no idea. But her response was perfect, she didn't apologize for Dad's diagnosis, she didn't give me a hug and give me pity, she looked at me and said, "I feel terrible. I feel terrible because I have not been praying for your Dad." I just smiled and said, "You can start today."

The road ahead is long. The road ahead is filled with highs and lows, good and bad days, and a lot of unknown. There is no "good" type of cancer, but there are days where I struggle with understanding why this type was given to my Dad. A type of cancer which is as bad as this type is. Brain cancer is not genetic. Brain cancer just "happens" (or so I've read). I've been struggling lately with trying to understand the why. This struggle comes with me trying to understand why I question these "bad" moments, yet just embrace the "good" moments? It's really these "bad" moments, which have turned into good moments, good moments of things happening in God's perfect timing. 

God's timing is perfect. He perfectly orchestrated Dad's diagnosis. Some people don't know this, but on October 4, 2013 I accepted a position at Texas A&M System Internal Audit department and gave my current employer my 2 weeks notice. I had been living in Austin, Texas and not enjoying my time there- and I knew it was time for me to look for a new job and a new location. A girl at Texas A&M took a chance on a random email and gave my resume to the director- to this day I will forever be thankful for God's hand in this process. Dad and I enjoyed a drink Friday night to celebrate my new job and discussed me moving back home until my lease was up in Austin (which was January 2014). The plans for me to return home had already been made, and my plans to live at home were already decided. On October 5, 2013, Dad had a seizure in our kitchen, which was caused by the brain tumor. God's plan is far greater than I can imagine, far greater than I can even try to understand, and far greater than I need to understand. All I know is his timing is perfect. He has placed people in my life (including an amazing co-worker who took a chance) that have truly changed my life.

Dad's fight continues. Dad struggles daily with speech and getting back to his "old self". I was so proud that he was able to mow the yard on Saturday- something he hasn't done since before October. He is slowly getting there, and I continue to pray the scan in 8 weeks will show continued improvement.  

My daily devotional is nothing short of amazing. It always feels like it was written just for me on that day. "You see huge mountains looming, and you start wondering how you're going to scale those heights...you tell me how worried you are about the cliffs up ahead. But you don't know what will happen today, much less tomorrow...If I do lead you up the cliffs, I will equip you thoroughly for that strenuous climb. Keep your mind on the present journey, enjoying My Presence. Walk by faith, not by sight..."

Struggling daily to walk by faith and not by sight. There are moments I fail, although I continue to find the blessings in this experience and continue to be thankful for every day I get to spend with my Dad.