Today marks 13 months since Dad's seizure. How crazy it is to think that it's all been 13 short months that our lives changed, 13 short months of renewing our faith, and 13 short months that have felt like a lifetime.
As the 5th of this month comes around, I'm reminded of that terrifying day of Dad's seizure, the time we spent in the hospital, and those weeks following Dad's surgery, those weeks that tested our faith and strength in so many ways. And even more so, the stories that have filled the news recently about Brain Cancer, those stories that have tugged on my heart in so many ways.
I follow many different blogs with others who share our fight against cancer, and after reading an entry from a wife, who's husband has the same type of cancer as Dad, I was left realizing that maybe I'm alone in these thoughts about Brittany Maynard. Maybe I'm alone in my thoughts that what Brittany Maynard did was not what I consider brave, and maybe I'm alone in my thoughts of thanking God each and every day for this path he so perfectly created for us- a path many would run far, far away from.
I feel torn. I feel as though I should be sympathizing with Brittany Maynard, in her choice to "die with dignity". I feel as though I should approve of her choice to run from the fear of death, to run from the side effects of her tumor. Brittany Maynard had the same type of cancer as my Dad, so I know all too well the side effects of the tumor and the treatment for Glioblastoma. I know all too well the devastation of hearing "terminal cancer". And I know all too well that feeling of hopelessness.
But then I realize why I'm not sympathizing with Brittany Maynard and why I'm not agreeing with the words written by the wife of the Glioblastoma patient. I read Brittany Maynard's Obituatary. Do you know that not one time does it mentions the word "faith" or "God"? I also read the blog post of the wife of the Glioblastoma patient, and not once does that blog post reference "faith" or "God". Not once.
Understand that life involves suffering. Pain is very real with a cancer diagnosis. But so is the joy involved in it all. Never underestimate the power of God's plan, that through the pain and the heartache comes true joy.
The Bible shares a story of a house built on solid rock, and one built on sand. Just because the house was built on solid rock, doesn't mean the storm no longer comes- it just means, the house is able to stand more firm. And that's exactly what our family is doing.
"Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it." Matthew 7: 24-27
Dad started another round of chemotherapy on Monday and Avastin treatment yesterday. We continue fighting along this path and Dad continues to feel well- which is such an incredible blessing! Our next MRI will be scheduled around December, and I continue to ask God for the best Christmas present we could receive: A good report.
Continue the thoughts and prayers being sent towards Dad, and continue the prayers for all those faced with the difficult battle against cancer. I pray each of those who are in this fight understand the purpose in our battle, understand that with the good days, there will be bad, but also understand that throughout it all a power much greater than anything here on Earth is with us walking hand in hand.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer.
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