This is getting tough for me…

I had a CT scan today to see if we can get a clearer picture of what’s going on with my jaw. About a month ago, a needle biopsy on a lump  came back positive for cancer. Then a couple weeks later, I had a PET scan that showed the lump had gone done dramatically. I haven’t heard back about my results today but I have to be honest…all of this is taking it’s toll on me. And I don’t mean my health specifically, but the health of all the little kids I have met, spoken with, etc. with the same type of pediatric cancer.

For those who have never experienced cancer close-up, it’s quite a gut-wrenching experience, whether you are the one experiencing it, or you are the caregiver. It’s natural for those that are experiencing a similar fight to bond with people in a similar plight. We’ve met some amazing families and their kids, suffering from rhabdo. Most relationships are built online, through support groups, and constant emails…mostly of the supportive kind, but some are of the “what do we do next?” kind.

During the course of my treatment, Amy has been the one on the support group lists and has been the one tracking our other little fighters and keeping in touch with their families. She has made friends with many families facing similar difficulties. I have gotten great words of encouragement and support from so many of these family members. Their support and prayers have helped me tremendously…I know that they have positively affected me…both mentally and physically. All of these parents are great…constantly by their child’s side, doing whatever necessary to keep them in good spirits and fighting. I know this because of the kind notes they send me. I know they are good people.

Recently, I have gone back and read up on some of our supporters and how their kid’s are doing. I can see why Amy kind of shielded me from this information. This morning, when Amy announced on our carepage site that another one of our little friends recently passed away due to the rhabdo, I couldn’t take it. I read it right when I woke up. I needed to get ready for my own scan today to see where my health is at but, all I  could think of was little Dillan Cade and his mother, Beverly. Beverly has been amazingly kind to us, constantly sending us words of hope and encouragement. Now her little one is gone. We never had the chance to meet them face-to-face, but we knew each other very well. We were each fighting the same battle and taking life one day at a time.

Nothing makes me more sad than hearing that we’ve lost another little fighter. It rips me up inside. All I can think about is the sadness that the families feel. I feel a sense of guilt. Why have I been able to survive when all of these “little ones’” are earning their wings way too early.

This is a sad day for me. I don’t know what my results will come back as, but this is a sad day for me.