One Month

Someone pointed out today that it's been one month since Henry's diagnosis. At times it feels more like 2 or 3 years and other times, like yesterday. So many of the details are still very clear. The announcement from the ER doctor of a 'mass' in his brain, the diagnosis of a medulloblastoma as the likely pathology, the meeting with the oncologist with the awful details of what was likely to come...

Surveying our lives today, I was trying to imagine myself on October 12, looking at myself today sitting beside his living-room bed side, with the 'Childhood Brain and Spinal Cord Tumors' book sitting there, a three and half inch scar on the back of Henry's head.

I feel fairly certain I would have considered it a nightmare and so unlikely an event that I'd dismiss it almost immediately. But here we are, admitting the accuracy of the oncologist on the night mentioned above, assuring us that we'd acclimate and do what then seemed impossible to consider. I couldn't have believed one month ago tonight that I'd ever laugh or smile or be able to cope with all of this and I'm somehow comforted that, having made it this far, that we'll be able to go the distance, buoyed by the unending support of family and friends.