Cancer Diagnosis 7 months later...

It's been 7 months since Dad was diagnosed with Stage 4 Brain Cancer...7 short months that have felt like a lifetime. I started reflecting over these last 7 months, and I started reflecting on the number of others I know who have heard that terrible 6 letter word: Cancer.

I'm not sure if it's because news is available to us at our fingertips, or if because my eyes have now been open to the world of cancer- but it feels like more and more people I know have heard the word "cancer", more and more people I know have to go through the same fight, fear and determination my family is going through- and it breaks my heart. 

So many people have commented on our faith, determination and positive attitude throughout it all. And yes, we have kept our faith, maintained our determination and stayed as positive as possible, but know that it hasn't always been this way. There have been stages throughout Dad's diagnosis, stages that have brought me to where I am today, but stages that were my lowest of lows. 

I remember hearing the word "malignant". I remember hearing the word "cancer". It was October 10, 2013, at Scott & White Hospital, in a room that I would like to never be in again. Cancer. My entire world stopped and tears streamed down my face. 

The drive back to Brenham was long and quiet. In the car was Mom, Dad and myself. Mom cried the entire way home, and I just held her hand. I remember at one point Mom looked at me and said, "I'm just sick. I want to throw up." And that was exactly how I felt. Dad didn't want to talk about it, Mom didn't want to talk about it and I knew that I had to be the one to tell others about Dad's diagnosis, I was going to have to make the calls to Mom's work, Dad's work and family to tell them the news- and my only thought was that I wasn't near strong enough to make it through it all. 

I tried to find the strength and courage to make the calls that I didn't want to make and send the texts that I never wanted to send. It was so extremely hard for me to say "tumor" or "brain cancer", it was so extremely hard for me to try to have faith in a higher power when this was our diagnosis. 

I made the calls, sent the texts and attempted to sleep the nights leading up to Dad's surgery. My nights were more like therapy sessions with God. I talked to him, I yelled at him, and I cried- I cried a lot. I went through weeks of being angry, upset, and mad at God. I didn't understand why my family was being put through this, I didn't understand why my family would have to go through something so terrible, little did I know that a few weeks later I would understand.

At first I felt guilty for feeling this way. I felt guilty for being so angry with God and attempting to turn my back on him, I felt guilty for not understanding this path and having full and complete faith in him. 

I'm not exactly sure when all that changed. I'm not exactly sure when my anger turned into love and my confusion turned into faith- but it did. Maybe it was those sleepless nights where I had no where to turn, no one to talk to but God- I had no choice but to have him help me through this time. 

A cancer diagnosis is never easy. There is no "cookie cutter" way to deal with a cancer diagnosis, nor can you ever imagine how you will react when you're faced with something so life changing. After a few weeks of hate, anger and fear, I realized that so much of my energy was going towards feelings that were not helping Dad, were not helping Mom and were not helping me. I realized I had one choice, and that was to let go and let God. 

We've survived these last 7 months on faith, friends and family. We've survived with smiles on our faces and tears down our cheeks. We've survived knowing that God so perfectly picked this path for our family, that God selected us for this journey. 

I can't sit here and tell you that it gets easier. I can't sit here and tell you that scheduling Oncology appointments, discussing chemotherapy or other IV treatments gets easier, but I can tell you that you get stronger. You realize that you have this strength to get through the lowest of lows, because you just know that after the lows, there will be the highs.

Dad had an extremely busy weekend. He was tired, sore and just worn out from our garage sale on Saturday- so we spent most of Sunday relaxing, napping and enjoying the day. Right now we take it all one day at a time, and we are thankful that today is a good day. On Wednesday Dad's next round of chemotherapy drugs are being delivered, which means another round of chemo is coming up- and Dad dreads that! Praying that the chemo continues to work and Dad continues to feel good throughout the next upcoming week. 

We continue to keep fighting, keep praying and keep hoping for a cure. We have survived these last 7 months on faith, and we will survive the next months continuing to lean on faith, friends and family. We've never tried to deny the diagnosis, but we will defy the verdict. 

Keep praying and we will keep fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!