Caution: Detour Ahead

Anyone who drives has more than likely encountered one of these warnings at one point or another.  They can be quite inconvenient, forcing a longer route to your destination--but they serve as a warning nonetheless.  Too bad life doesn't have those same kinds of warning signs--signs giving just enough of a heads-up to prepare for battle.  Unfortunately, that's not the way it works.  Sometimes those detours take you on journeys you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy.

In the last 20 months, our family has experienced two significant detours--ones that could have left us questioning every step on our path, but instead have found us pressing on, no matter how difficult it is to put one foot in front of the other some days.

Paige's initial cancer diagnosis in January 2014 turned our world upside down.  Our beautiful daughter--the healthy kiddo--had leukemia.  We could no longer go forward with our planned route.  In fact, there were portions of this detour that found Paige and me on separate paths from Boyce and Jeremy.  From clinic visits and hospital stays to school and work schedules--we spent more time apart than together.  Reaching that checkpoint of maintenance therapy was indeed a blessing for us all.  We even began to settle into a type of normalcy--if there is such a thing.

One week ago--just two weeks into the school year--we hit a second detour.  In some ways this one is even more devastating than the first.  Just nine months away from the completion of Paige's treatment, an ER visit for a swollen patch around the base of the neck led to the discovery of a mass in her chest and blasts in her bone marrow.  Paige's leukemia has relapsed, and this aggressive cancer must be attacked just as aggressively.  We must go full-force with treatment to hit remission and receive a bone marrow transplant.  

This evening marked the end of five straight days of very intense chemotherapy.  Even that road map had a detour into the ICU after a procedure.  Three tough drugs given over four-hour periods each day--but it doesn't stop there.  Now, we wait.  Over the next few weeks, Paige's body will get weaker, and her counts will drop--as she slowly recovers to a point where subsequent tests will determine the progress made.

With no warning whatsoever, my girl is gearing up for yet another battle with this monster known as childhood cancer.  Can she do it again?  Absolutely!  God had her in the palm of His hand the first time around, and I have no doubt He has her again.

Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.   Romans 12:12