Modern Day Job.

Ever feel like you’re the modern day Job? That as you’re sitting in your misery you keep one eye on the horizon, constantly scanning and waiting for the messenger to show up with more bad news? That is me. I thought I hit rock bottom, and decided that while I wait for a breakthrough here in the depths, I will attempt to find a soft spot to lay my head and find something that resembled life again. For a little while, I stopped scanning the horizon.I was not keeping an eye out for that unwelcome messenger. As I was trying to settle in, my rock bottom cracked; giving way to new, dark depths.

Wednesday, March 30th, Brock had a routine MRI done to check the status of the residual tumor left behind. The 5% of tumor left behind was strategically left in order to avoid Brock’s current memory impairments, as that portion of the tumor was sticking to the brain like gum. Brock has had countless MRI’s done since surgery, but this was the first to specifically check for changes and/or growth. There is very little known about this kind of tumor, but a couple of facts that all neurosurgeons can agree on is that it is rare, complicated, and aggressive. To our dismay, the tumor is growing back at a unprecedented pace. The 5% has grown into 25% in a short five months and intervention is now a top priority. As we sat in the doctors office going over the MRI results, I looked straight into the neurosurgeon’s eyes and said “you’re telling me that when you preform this type of tumor resection on other people, the patient wakes up and goes about a ‘normal’ life again besides the expected hormonal changes?” The doctor quickly responded “Yes. In fact, I just did this same surgery this week and the patient is going to go about life again…” I blocked out the rest. As I sat dumbfounded, I repeated my same question, even though the answer was the same. Life isn’t suppose to be this way.

I lay awake at night thinking about the future and searching for a glimmer of light or answers to my nightmare, but it’s dark and the silence is relentless. I have never felt a loneliness like this before and it is chilling.

The progress we have seen in Brock’s memory since California has been hopeful. Over the last couple of weeks he is able to recall going to California, the reason for his memory loss, and even the names of some of the staff…these are all monumental memories! It has been slow but steady progress. Although some memories are starting to stick, there is still confusion and frustration as his mind keeps pulling him back to his high school years. He is becoming more depressed as he realizes his shortcomings and inabilities, but we are choosing to see this as a healthy sign of recovery.

All of this being said, the news on Wednesday hit like a ton of bricks. I write to you in desperation for prayer. I feel like I am in a constant fog and long for clarity. I am grateful for everyone’s prayers, as I feel too weak to hold my hands up. I envisioned that the next time I would write again would be a post of triumph and victory as breakthrough finally happened, but life doesn’t always have the fairytale ending. Life is hard, painful, and even ugly sometimes, but I believe that’s why God created community. As I find myself between a rock and a hard place, I am grateful for you. Thank you for coming beside us and trying to plant flowers in the desert.

Please continue to pray for Brock’s healing and restoration. I also beg for prayer for my children and I as we try to climb out of this pit. I don’t know what we will find when we finally reach the top, but I know that some day we’ll get there. I really hope it’s soon.