I wrote this last week but didn't post it. I seem to be doing more of those "not for sharing" type posts lately. I realize it has been a while since I communicate with you and I am sorry for that. I know you are anxious to know what's going on and I just haven't let you in.
Last month, while Katie and I were spending some quality time together, she made a comment to me that tore my heart to pieces. I considered not sharing this with anyone, but can't ignore the fact that this incident depicts clearly the feeling we have been silently struggling with for some time.
While having a meal together, Katie looked at me in the eyes and asked: "Is Daddy going to be OK?" I stared back into her eyes, while trying to maintain my composure and replied: "I don't know!" I took a deep breath and continued saying: "We just have to remember that God is with us! We have to keep praying and trust it will be OK." Katie took a couple of bites and then said: "Well, I hope so because... you know what would be so sad? If the first funeral I attend, ever, would have to be for my own Dad."
We have searched high and low for options but end up right back where we started. For the last eight months, Tim's Oncologist has done all that he can in an attempt to find a treatment that works in our favor. But so far the treatment has not responded as we hoped in shrinking the tumor and/or destroying the cancer cells.
Tim's diagnosis and treatment pattern have been confirmed by several specialists. They tell us that the reason Tim is not getting better is not as a result of incorrect treatment or diagnosis, but the rarity of his tumor. They say that in order for Tim to be cured, the tumor has to be surgically removed. But it can't be done unless the tumor is reduced in size.
Just recently, we met and consulted with a Sarcoma specialist in LA. He took a lot of time explaining Tim's tumor and how it has affected his body and so forth. He mentioned some possible treatment scenarios and then added an important fact that we don't recall hearing before. He said that the type of cancer Tim has is not likely to shrink with chemo since the cancer cells are bone-producing.
Now, could it be that I am misunderstanding the facts that have been presented to us by different doctors at different times? Could it be that I have failed Tim and my girls by spending so much time and effort looking for a cure for Tim in all the wrong places? Or has my lack of aggressively pursuing alternate treatments cheated Tim from being cured? Or could it be that the system is cheating us by not making a cure that may exist available to us now? I don't know! I really don't know what the answer to any of these questions are. Nor do I have a clue as to how to proceed.
I wish I could say my faith and optimism are strong. But, they are pretty shaken up at the moment. So rather than letting myself and my family fall into the depths of defeat and depression, I will focus on our blessings.
We are thankful for the care that all of the doctors and nurses have given to Tim so far. We are thankful for family and friends; for your love, friendship, and prayers that keep us going. We are thankful for all the selfless acts of kindness that many of you have done for us. Especially those of you who have done so without even knowing us personally. If we have learned anything from our struggle over the last few months, is that love exists, people do care, and God is always near.
I don't know what our future holds, but I do know we want it to involve all of you. I am planning a party to celebrate Tim's 34th birthday in November. My wish is that this party is a huge celebration of life and friendship. I would love for all of our family, friends, and our new friends who have played any role in Tim's care directly or indirectly, to join us! If you are not in my e-mail distribution list and do not automatically receive post updates from me, please send me your e-mail address so I can add you to the e-Vite list for party details.
May God bless you all!
