Best Day Ever!

I realize that as we prepare for major surgery tomorrow that the title of this post may seem a bit strange.  I certainly didn't anticipate this morning when I returned to Primary Children's Hospital that I would ever think that this would be the best day ever.  On the contrary, I would have assumed that this would be the second worst day of my life -- tomorrow being the worst.  But as I am continually tutored by the Lord, I realize that "his ways are higher than [my] ways."

I returned from home with bags of gifts, cards, and letters for Brendan.  Brendan met me outside by the parking garage and I showed him all the things that others had sent with me as well as sharing the well-wishes from everyone.  He was overwhelmed.  Over and over he said, "I just can't believe it! Everyone is so nice!"

Throughout the day he continued to receive letters and packages, texts, and emails.  Cousins, teachers, and ward members visited. Brendan was up for it all.  He played, he laughed, he lived.  At one rare, quiet moment, we discussed all that was happening.  I said, "You know why everyone is sending you gifts and cards and notes don't you?"  

"Yeah," he said.  They are thinking of me.  

"Yes," I replied.  "It's not so much the gift, they just want you to know how much they love you."  

He was a little overcome with the enormity of it all, and I said, "They have always loved you -- you just never realized how much."

"Wow," he said.  "It's too bad I had to get cancer in order to find out just how much everyone loves me."

The spirit filled the room and he leaned back on the bed and with a big smile said, "This is the best!"

Blood draws in preparation for surgery tomorrow.

Making more smiles!

More letters of love and encouragement.  

 The daily eye check-up.  They continually watch the right eye for signs of trouble.  They check the left eye for any sign of improvement.  They feel he will never regain full sight in his left eye now as too much time has passed with the nerve being compressed.  He may yet be able to sense light in that eye, but now the focus is on making sure nothing happens to the right eye.  He can be termed "monocular" (meaning seeing with only one eye) similar to his uncle Travis.  The doctors have been extremely grateful that Brendan has an uncle that he loves and looks up to with similar issues because it will give him someone to identify with and he knows that life is pretty much the same with sight in one eye or two.

Air Hockey with his cousin.  His cousins call themselves, "Charlie's Angels!"

Brendan and Brooklyn are up for the challenge!

A letter from Mrs. Olsen's 1st grade class at Canyon Elementary.  It was brought to him by the principle and Brendan's 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Williamson.

While Brendan visited, Shaun and I consulted with the neurosurgeon about tomorrow's surgery.  

Tomorrow's surgery will start with a FNA (fine needle aspirate) and lymph node biopsy.  (They are 99% sure that the lymph nodes in his neck have cancer cells, which will require chemotherapy.)  It will be followed by the neurosurgeon performing a craniotomy and removing as much of the tumor (seen above in white behind the nose) as possible.  Bone from his skull will be taken to rebuild the area above the sinuses where the cancer has pushed through.  The dura on the brain will be checked to see if the cancer has penetrated there and, if it has, will have to been taken out and the dura stitched back together.

Once the neurosurgeon is done, the ENT (ear, nose, and throat) doctor will come in and clean out the rest of the sinus cavity of any leftover tumor, and clean around the carotoid artery and nerves where they left it before.  They are guess-timating that he will be in surgery about 10 hours.

We are so grateful for the skilled surgeons and the expertise they have in this area.  We've appreciated their knowledge and efforts to help Brendan.

Making music together in "Sophie's Place" - a room devoted to giving patients the opportunity to explore new instruments and play music.

The family came down to have dinner together.  Thank goodness for the Ronald McDonald House and the wonderful volunteers who provide meals for families of patients. Tonight's dinner was provided by a young man doing his Eagle Scout project who had spent many younger years as a patient here at Primary Children's Hospital.

"Believe"

Laughing together and enjoying being together again.

Telling jokes and laughing together.  Definitely the best medicine!

Brendan explaining how they took the packing out of his sinus this morning.

Video chatting with cousins, aunts, and uncles.

Tonight, after everyone left, I took the time to read every letter, every comment, and every card, every joke, every text that was sent to Brendan so he knew just how many people were pulling for him.

 You can see how much it all meant to him.   He had begun to get rather nervous about the upcoming surgery, but as I read your encouraging words to him, he calmed down, smiled, and we laughed at all the jokes and the wonderful love you sent.

 I can't even begin to express my gratitude to everyone for all you have done for us.  Every prayer, every note, every thought, has made such an incredible difference.  Nothing has been too small or insignificant but that it has all added together to create the avalanche of love we feel.  This experience has made us focus intensely on what matters most -- Love and  Family.  It has truly been the best day ever!