Well, we just had another scare with Jacob. A spot was discovered during a routine test whose sole purpose is to detect Neuroblastoma cells. The rug was pulled out from under us all over again. It was like diagnosis day all over – fear, outrage, despair. Four days of more in-depth test, piled on top of the previous week of scheduled tests and antibody treatments, turned two weeks into two years. Even though we know how aggressive this cancer is, we were still quickly reunited with the paralyzing fear of starting this fight all over with further reduced odds. We quickly learned that knowing and being prepared for this kind of devasting news are two different things.

In New York with all three kids, I spent my days trying to breathe and not show my fear. I touched base with home constantly. I was comforted with every call I made: I heard how the cookbooks were selling; how the Kent Island Senior Center turned a line dancing get-together into a fund-raiser; how a little girl named Sadie sent money from her piggy bank so Jacob could have some fun; and how cards of prayers were still pouring in. Unfortunately, I’m only able to express my appreciation to my immediate circle of friends who are watching out for us. I always wish there was some way to thank all the other people who have kept us in their thoughts and who have given so much of themselves to a little boy they have never met. The only way I can even begin to do this is through this column – thank you.

Thankfully, the more in-depth scan showed nothing new in that spot, leaving the doctors with no answers but enough confidence to go on as planned. From two hundred miles away, I listened to these wonderful stories as I awaited out fate only to continue to receive comfort in the fact that we are not alone.

We hope to see you at the auction on March 8th.

Until next time,
CMH