More Thank Yous

Every street is dark
And folding out mysteriously
Where lies the chance we take to be
Always working
Reaching out for a hand that we can't see
Everybody's got a hold on hope
It's the last thing that's holding me
--Hold On Hope, Guided by Voices

And after all this Adam's port removal procedure yesterday went off without a hitch. He was in the O.R. for about 35 minutes, maybe, and then to the recovery area. He took his time waking up but once I put on a spider man cartoon he found energy to sit up, drink his icey and then, when asked "Don't you want to get out of here?", he got dressed and we left. The port is now in a plastic specimen jar on his desk. It will make a great 'show and tell' piece. But I don't think they do show and tell in 6th grade....maybe Camille could show it.

Adam is out of school today to recover but I think he is pretty good except for some soreness around the incision spot.

I know there have been countless prayers, blessings and positive thoughts about Adam through out all of this. It's been almost a year since we started down this road (he was diagnosed in March 08). In some ways it's been an amazingly positive trip. We've seen how loving folks can be. I think my relationship with friends and family old and new has been made richer. Adam, one day, will realize how fortunate he is to have had so many join in solidarity with his struggle. Our family rec room full of car license plates is proof, a reminder of people's love and generosity. As I practice my daily mindfulness exercise, breathing, counting breaths, I say a thank you with each out breath. Maybe one day that will be enough thank yous, but I doubt it.

We were confident from the beginning that Adam would make it; that the treatments would be successful. There was every reason to think so. Rhabdomyosarcoma is very treatable, especially when it is found in such a 'favorable' site. The protocol Adam was placed on had a strong history of effective cancer cure. When we first heard the diagnosis the Dr. said Adam would be in treatment for 1 year. But soon we learned about the protocol. I often think that if he wasn't able to participate in the protocol he'd still be in chemo now. Still be out of school. Still be cut off from friends and activities. Still be bald and losing more weight. I know we 'lucked out'. We are five minutes from Vandy. We have insurance. The list goes on. But our main fortune has been the support and love from YOU. If there is a God then that support, love, prayers and good wishes is how God works. So, thank you God.

We weren't as confident about how we would do (Martha and me) as parents of a kid with cancer. Would this stress us to the max; would it strain our relationship (marriages have broken up over less); would I be able to handle seeing Adam in the pain and misery of chemo? Looking back, I think we did ok. The most painful moment for me was spending the night with Adam at the hospital, I think it was the second inpt stay for chemo, and he was bent over in pain for much of the night and I couldn't do a thing to relieve his pain. Adam's stoicism finally broke down that night. He was clearly suffering and all I could do was help him make it to the bathroom with his IV in tow. That night it really hit home to me that this would be serious up hill struggle. I had confidence in the chances for cure but not in my ability to soldier on. Adam was a champion. He may not have liked it but he never flinched. His courage is what in the end helped me to 'toughen up' enough to get through this. So, thank you Adam. And then there is Martha. She too has been the champion. She took off most of the time to take Adam to appointments. She had to put up with Adam when he wasn't at his most charming. She handled the details. She kept up a very positive front, only cracking occasionally. Tears being a relief. But she never faltered in her focus on doing what had to be done. So. thank you Martha. Not forgetting Camille. Camille really didn't understand about cancer but she knew her brother was sick and had to go frequently to the hospital. We certainly couldn't pay as much attention to Camille as we would have in normal circumstances. Some how she seems to have intuitively understood this. We saw none of the 'regression' we were told to expect. Camille never whined more than usual. She was generally sweet to her big brother, giving him his space, peace and quiet (things are different now of course, they drive each other crazy...but that's ok). So, thank you Camille.

There are many thank yous I can't mention for many more family and friends; my mom and dad, Connie (grandma), Jared and Heather, Jay and Lucy, Carson and David, Anna and the prepared food crew who were so helpful especially in the beginning.... nothing says we are thinking about you like prepare dinner; John and Julia (Fin and Morgan); Adam's class mates with their fantastic get well notes, the nurses at Vandy, Dr. K..... well, the list just goes on and on.