Scars. Dad Update 5/19/2015

Last night, Dad started another round of chemo. Oh how I hate these weeks. And I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual for Dad. 

But, it's all part of our process and our fight. The chemo pills will never stop, unless they stop working to suppress the cancer growth, or the side effects start to decrease his quality of life- but until then, Dad takes them each month for those 5 long days and we continue to press on. 

The other day I sat in another cold doctor's office, this time an appointment for me with my annoying allergies and I couldn't help but go right back to that cold doctor's office where we heard the word "tumor". Where we heard the word "malignant". Where I realized that our lives were about to be changed forever. 

I started thinking about all the things we've overcome so far, many of which I mentally prepared for prior to it all happening. I read about brain surgery recovery, I read about chemotherapy side effects and radiation treatment, and I read about what exactly Dad's tumor was capable of doing to his brain. But what none of those articles shared with me was the insecurity Dad would face with losing his hair due to the radiation treatment and the surgery. 

He's a guy. Guys don't care about losing their hair, right?

I realized it wasn't so much about losing his hair, it was the fact that the hair falling out solidified that he in fact had cancer, and without all of his hair, there the scar from his surgery showed through. 

But what Dad doesn't realize is the beauty I see in that scar. You see, that scar reminds me that something so bad and evil tried to take my Dad too early, that scar reminds me that I have so much to be thankful for. 

That scar also reminds me of how far I've come as an individual and a caretaker these last 19.5 months. That scar reminds me that I've got the strongest and bravest Dad in the entire world. I have a Dad that has looked death in the eyes and never feared cancer, but instead, given his concerns and worries over to God. That scar reminds me that I have a really good God.

There is so much beauty in that scar. Because that scar reminds me of the battle that Dad has won. 

Winning the battle against cancer doesn't come from remission or the cancer shrinking, nope not at all. Winning the battle against cancer means you looked at something so terrible and fearful right in the eyes, and you maintained your faith, your strength and your fight. And because of that definition, Dad has already won. 

I'm not sure what our next few months will look like, much less what will happen tomorrow, but what I do know is that I never want Dad to feel insecure about his scar. I never want any cancer patient to feel that way about their scars or losing their hair. Because to me, it's beautiful. It means your strength, your grace and your faith have helped you fight against something. Because to me, you are a true hero for the world to see. 

In the end, the journey with cancer is much greater than the end result. We all learn, grow and become better for it all. Sometimes we question how God could ever think we are strong enough or faithful enough to be on the journey- but difficult times are not the arena in which we prove our faithfulness to God, no, it's where we prove that God is faithful. 

With another round of chemotherapy this week, Dad will be back at the doctor in about a month for blood work, in hopes his counts remain stable and we can continue on his treatment. Revisiting the doctor again in 2 months to determine when our next MRI will take place, and feeling a sense of relief that, although off of the Avastin, Dad's MRI maintains stable. We are so incredibly blessed for each and every day with Dad, and can't help but thank God for the amazing friends and family on this journey with us every step of the way. 

Continue the prayers, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!