We have arrived at the end of Jack's first chemotherapy protocol. (Jack is my seven-year-old son.) Carrying a cake, we entered the chemo wing for our last treatment of this medicine. Waiting for us was ice cream and party favors. The chemo wing was ready for a party.
After a little hiccup due to Jack's low immune system counts, his last treatment was given. Celebrate with us ... we are done with this protocol.
The other end of the spectrum ... a new family came to chemo today. Their four-month-old son had a tumor removed from his kidney. The doctors believe they removed all of the tumor, but prescribed chemo to make sure any rogue tumor cells are "killed off."
This poor mama and her husband, along with their precious baby, walked into the craziness of the chemo wing today, party and all. After they were introduced to everyone, they found their seats and waited for their son. I looked over at the mom. She was looking around the room at all the children hooked up to chemo while they were playing and smiling. Her eyes were filled with tears. She was overwhelmed by what she was seeing and with all that the last couple of weeks had involved. One day you take your baby to the doctor for his four-month check up. The next day you are in a big hospital and your baby is being wheeled into surgery. Suddenly you have entered a community that you never knew existed.
I looked into her eyes and said, "This is all pretty new to you, isn't it?" And she just started crying. I talked with her about how afraid I was in the beginning, and how I felt. Then I shared all the blessings of friends and how God can bring good from anything. I started crying too. She was crying because she was entering this community and I was crying because we were leaving it.
I want to cry out to the world, "If you only knew how broken my heart was ... how I was afraid and angry ... how someone who chose sin for so many years can have a cup that runs over with joy, the desire to abide in God's Word, tears that are counted by God, and an assurance of eternal life in heaven. You can have this! God is waiting to bless you! Lift your eyes and behold the King of Glory, your Creator, the Lover of your soul. Give Him your heart and you will never be sorry."
I praise you Lord, for turning our mourning into dancing; for the filling of your Spirit to live beyond myself and in You.
I cry out to the Lord in praise, not because our treatments are done, but because of his faithfulness in every moment of every day of our journey of chemo, and each day before and after. He absolutely thrills me. Glory!
We find out in a couple of weeks if Jack's brain tumor is gone or if continued treatment is needed. For now, I enjoy the party and the Father and knowing I don't journey alone.
Editor's Note: The couple of weeks have passed. Jack had his latest check up. No more treatments or tests for at least three months. Please pray that his tumors will not reappear or return!
