One Year In

A year ago today, some of Sarah’s and my worst fears were confirmed. A year ago today, our world was turned upside down, and our lives were changed forever. A little over a year ago, on Tuesday, January 28, 2025, I took Michael to his pediatrician expecting to be told that He had mononucleosis, only for his doctor to say, “He’s a healthy kid.” That doctor’s appointment became the first step on 40+ plus hour journey that would lead us to Michael’s official diagnosis of Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia on the morning of January 30, 2025.

So much has happened in the last twelve months. This crazy rollercoaster ride that we call life has included so many ups and downs, hard left turns and at least a few loop-de-loops! I have come to know by experience the stomach-wrenching anguish of watching one’s child suffer deeply. I have experienced the highs of that same child reaching milestones that there was no guarantee he would reach. I have watched the emotional strain on my other three children and felt the burden of trying to help them navigate their new normal…which could and did change at a moment’s notice. I have experienced the immediate connection that I have with other parents of kids with cancer and new relationships forged by our common heartache. I have likely wept more in the last year than in any other year of my life up to this point. And I have been overwhelmed by the outpouring of love, prayer, and generosity of the body of Christ. I have experienced my plans being thrown repeatedly in the garbage disposal and the joys of the family vacations that we were able to take. I have experienced the toll that the stress of having a child with cancer takes on one’s health and one’s marriage. And I have experienced both the blessings and the burdens of new ministry opportunities that God has opened to me, and I believe will continue to open as we continue on this journey with leukemia.

As I write this, Michael is enjoying homecoming at his school this evening. He is not on the court and was not able to be involved much with the festivities of Spirit Week. But for him to be able to openly enjoy an event like this is a big deal for him. I had planned on being there with him and the rest of my family. But through a series of events completely beyond my control that included vehicle problems, a tow truck that was delayed by several hours, and a friendly chat with the local city police, I find myself enjoying a quiet evening at home with just me and the dogs. For the record, I did not commit a crime. My vehicle died right in front of a stop sign, and the police were eager to have it removed from the street as soon as possible (as was I). Interestingly enough, this morning I told Sarah that I had a blog post in my head, but that I didn’t know when I was going to have the time to write it. The Lord conveniently cleared my schedule for me this evening.

On Monday of this week Michael and I went down to Ann Arbor for the second of five chemo treatments that will take place during his current course of chemo. The way that this course is designed is that Michael started with 50mg of the drug methotrexate at his first treatment with the dosage being upped by 50mg each consecutive treatment. What that means practically is that Michael’s dosage from the first treatment was doubled the second time around. The first time Michael had this treatment, it wiped him out for a little less than 24 hours. The second dose that took place this week had a more significant impact on him. Michael slept the entire way home from the hospital on Monday, went straight to bed, slept most of the day on Tuesday, and most of the morning on Wednesday. We are grateful that he was able to be back in school in person for a few hours each day on Thursday and Friday. But the way his body responded to the chemo this time around has us mildly apprehensive about the final three treatments in this course. The chemo seems to be having a more significant impact on him than what we were lead to believe it would. One nice thing about this course of chemo though, is that for the first time, Michael’s treatments are not weekly. They are spaced out every ten to eleven days over the course of eight weeks. He should wrap this course up, Lord-willing, by the end of February.

Once Michael’s current course of chemo is completed, he will enter his final (and longest) course. His final course of chemo will last eighteen months and should start sometime in early March. This is the course that we have been looking forward to since day one because his treatments will only be once a month.

Much has happened concerning my back in the last few weeks. On January 13th, I had my second MRI, this time with contrast dye. I was able to meet with my neurosurgeon a few days later and the second MRI revealed that I have a herniated disk that has almost completely repaired itself. That is nothing short of a miracle and a direct answer to prayer! My neurosurgeon told me that while this type of thing is known to happen, it is very rare. And as bad as the first MRI was, he was thrilled to inform me that I would not need surgery! My back is still giving me some issues however, so he put orders in for physical therapy. I have been asking for physical therapy since September and am thrilled to finally be able to move forward with it. I have felt very limited physically over the last several months and have tried very hard to avoid aggravating my back. Physical therapy started this week, and it’s refreshing to finally be able to do something proactive to improve my ability to function. That is not to say that it has been easy. My physical therapist is a great guy, but he was ruthless today! He told me, “I want you to stretch aggressively. I want to see tears coming down your face!” I avoided the tears, but the stretching was intense! I will be doing physical therapy twice a week for the next several weeks.

Overall, 2026 is off to a much better start than 2025. I have some big plans for this year in the works and am looking forward to seeing what God will do.