The past week in many respects has flown by, yet time seems to stand still. Telling Avery about his diagnosis may have been the most difficult thing Brad has ever had to do. I mean really, what is the best way to tell an 11 year old that his best friend (that's what Avery is always calling his dad) has this big, bad, scary thing called C-A-N-C-E-R? We wanted to be sure that Avery heard it directly from Brad and nobody else. We sat down for a family discussion shortly after we ourselves found out. A "family discussion" is a quick way to get Avery's attention. He honestly thought he was in trouble.
The conversation went a little something like this...
Brad: Avery, you know I've been having this lump on my neck looked at by the doctors, right?
Avery: Yes, sir.
Brad: Do you know what cancer is?
Avery: Yes, sir.
Brad: Tell me what you know about it.
Avery: Well, I know that for some people it can make them lose their hair. Other people can die from it and that some cancer is worse than other cancer.
Brad: Good job bud, that's all correct. I want to let you know that the doctors found out that the lump on my neck is cancer. It's called lymphoma, which you probably can't say 'cuz it can be a hard word to pronounce.
Sandy: I'll bet Avery can say lymphoma (you didn't think I was quiet the WHOLE time did you?).
Avery: Lymphoma.
Brad went on to explain to Avery that because he was so young (he's 35) and hasn't had any symptoms that those with cancer typically exhibit, the Dr. told him that was good news and that we would be visiting the Dr. in the morning. Together we explained chemotherapy and the effects it may have on Brad's body and his energy. Together we talked about Avery being a strong, young man to help around the house a little more and to help keep his dad's spirits high.
At the end of the conversation Brad asked Avery if he had any questions. He only had one initially.
Avery: So how long will you have cancer?
Brad: It depends on how my body reacts to the treatment when it begins. Some people have cancer for a very long time, but many people have treatment and get better very quickly.
Avery just sat there quietly. He didn't cry, but he did hold my hand as I cried. He looked like he wanted to say something. When we asked him, he said he didn't have anything else to say. We then talked about how challenging things will be in the future and that it is incredibly important to talk about our feelings and ask questions. We stressed that it was ok to be sad and scared, because we were feeling the same way. I mean really, we had only found out Brad's diagnosis about 1 1/2 hours earlier.
Avery then said, "I do have something else I want to know, but I'm scared to ask." I encouraged him to ask his question and his exact words were, "So what are the consequences of this?". We all sat there quietly and I said, "Are you trying to ask if dad is going to die from this?" He replied, "Yes ma'am." I told Avery that we were hopeful for a very strong recovery because of the things that the Dr. had told Brad over the phone and that we would really pray for dad to get better.
That was the end of the conversation. Avery gave us both incredibly big hugs and then went to spend the night with his mom so that Brad and I could spend some time together. Before Avery got off our street, he had already sent Brad a text message saying, "I love you so so so so so so much." We have been blessed by the most gracious, accepting, thoughtful, loving child in the world.
The next morning, on December 15th (the day after diagnosis), Brad and I met with Dr. Harter face to face. Here, we would learn a couple of quick "rules":
1. Do NOT do any internet research about lymphoma. However, when we know more about Brad's specific cancer, the doctors will provide the appropriate internet resources for us to share with family and friends.
2. Do NOT listen to the diagnoses and outcomes of the many good and bad stories that will be retold to us from those who care. While intentions are good, each specific case of cancer has it's own journey. Ours is yet to be discovered.
Dr. Harter is somebody who I immediately liked. He doesn't seem (so far) like one of those physicians trying to herd you in and out of his office like cattle. He takes his time to answer questions and even offered his own suggestion for us to keep a "question journal". The purpose of the journal is kinda obvious, but allows us to write our questions down as they pop in our head. We then of course, take the journal to Brad's myriad of appointments and get the answers. We have nearly three pages of questions right now.
The conversation went a little something like this...
Brad: Avery, you know I've been having this lump on my neck looked at by the doctors, right?
Avery: Yes, sir.
Brad: Do you know what cancer is?
Avery: Yes, sir.
Brad: Tell me what you know about it.
Avery: Well, I know that for some people it can make them lose their hair. Other people can die from it and that some cancer is worse than other cancer.
Brad: Good job bud, that's all correct. I want to let you know that the doctors found out that the lump on my neck is cancer. It's called lymphoma, which you probably can't say 'cuz it can be a hard word to pronounce.
Sandy: I'll bet Avery can say lymphoma (you didn't think I was quiet the WHOLE time did you?).
Avery: Lymphoma.
Brad went on to explain to Avery that because he was so young (he's 35) and hasn't had any symptoms that those with cancer typically exhibit, the Dr. told him that was good news and that we would be visiting the Dr. in the morning. Together we explained chemotherapy and the effects it may have on Brad's body and his energy. Together we talked about Avery being a strong, young man to help around the house a little more and to help keep his dad's spirits high.
At the end of the conversation Brad asked Avery if he had any questions. He only had one initially.
Avery: So how long will you have cancer?
Brad: It depends on how my body reacts to the treatment when it begins. Some people have cancer for a very long time, but many people have treatment and get better very quickly.
Avery just sat there quietly. He didn't cry, but he did hold my hand as I cried. He looked like he wanted to say something. When we asked him, he said he didn't have anything else to say. We then talked about how challenging things will be in the future and that it is incredibly important to talk about our feelings and ask questions. We stressed that it was ok to be sad and scared, because we were feeling the same way. I mean really, we had only found out Brad's diagnosis about 1 1/2 hours earlier.
Avery then said, "I do have something else I want to know, but I'm scared to ask." I encouraged him to ask his question and his exact words were, "So what are the consequences of this?". We all sat there quietly and I said, "Are you trying to ask if dad is going to die from this?" He replied, "Yes ma'am." I told Avery that we were hopeful for a very strong recovery because of the things that the Dr. had told Brad over the phone and that we would really pray for dad to get better.
That was the end of the conversation. Avery gave us both incredibly big hugs and then went to spend the night with his mom so that Brad and I could spend some time together. Before Avery got off our street, he had already sent Brad a text message saying, "I love you so so so so so so much." We have been blessed by the most gracious, accepting, thoughtful, loving child in the world.
The next morning, on December 15th (the day after diagnosis), Brad and I met with Dr. Harter face to face. Here, we would learn a couple of quick "rules":
1. Do NOT do any internet research about lymphoma. However, when we know more about Brad's specific cancer, the doctors will provide the appropriate internet resources for us to share with family and friends.
2. Do NOT listen to the diagnoses and outcomes of the many good and bad stories that will be retold to us from those who care. While intentions are good, each specific case of cancer has it's own journey. Ours is yet to be discovered.
Dr. Harter is somebody who I immediately liked. He doesn't seem (so far) like one of those physicians trying to herd you in and out of his office like cattle. He takes his time to answer questions and even offered his own suggestion for us to keep a "question journal". The purpose of the journal is kinda obvious, but allows us to write our questions down as they pop in our head. We then of course, take the journal to Brad's myriad of appointments and get the answers. We have nearly three pages of questions right now.
Avery has been seeing a wonderful counselor for nearly two years. Roxana has been very helpful to Avery in finding his own voice and sharing his thoughts more openly, something that children of divorced parents often struggle with. Ironically, Avery had a scheduled appointment with Roxana this past Thursday and the focus of his time with her was spent talking about Brad's diagnosis. Something Roxana encouraged was that Brad and Avery take a picture together prior to any procedure that occurs with Brad. She suggested that we post each new picture as the background on our computer and print a copy for Avery to carry with him to school, etc... as a way to help him through Brad's phases and to help Avery continue seeing that his and dad's relationship can be strong with and without cancer. Their first picture is what's posted in this blog.
This past Friday, Brad had a PET scan, which we are anxiously awaiting the results right now and will hopefully hear something today. In order to perform the scan, Brad had to drink a radioactive "cocktail" as the technician referred to it, allowing the drink the coat the inside of his body to protect his organs before being scanned. The results are immediate, but could not be shared with Brad. Unfortunately, because of a record setting snow fall in Roanoke, all the doctor offices closed early and we didn't get the results on Friday.
The radioactive material made Brad extremely nauseous and lethargic (although he did get a few short bursts of energy) throughout the weekend. I think the worst part was that Brad could not touch and was encouraged to keep some distance between him and Avery for nearly 20 hours.
We decided that because the snow was so beautiful and because Brad may not be feeling well after a scheduled surgical procedure to remove the enlarged lymph node on December 23rd, that we would celebrate Christmas early to brighten everybody's spirits. It was the best "Christmas" ever even though we couldn't hug Brad because he was glowing in the dark. I'm confident it's something we'll laugh about in the future.
Big hugs,
Sandy
This past Friday, Brad had a PET scan, which we are anxiously awaiting the results right now and will hopefully hear something today. In order to perform the scan, Brad had to drink a radioactive "cocktail" as the technician referred to it, allowing the drink the coat the inside of his body to protect his organs before being scanned. The results are immediate, but could not be shared with Brad. Unfortunately, because of a record setting snow fall in Roanoke, all the doctor offices closed early and we didn't get the results on Friday.
The radioactive material made Brad extremely nauseous and lethargic (although he did get a few short bursts of energy) throughout the weekend. I think the worst part was that Brad could not touch and was encouraged to keep some distance between him and Avery for nearly 20 hours.
We decided that because the snow was so beautiful and because Brad may not be feeling well after a scheduled surgical procedure to remove the enlarged lymph node on December 23rd, that we would celebrate Christmas early to brighten everybody's spirits. It was the best "Christmas" ever even though we couldn't hug Brad because he was glowing in the dark. I'm confident it's something we'll laugh about in the future.
Big hugs,
Sandy
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