Wednesday, June 15, 2016


May 11-13, 2016

After a full day of screening and consultation (where a 30-minute procedure was explained in real time at least four times), the second biopsy was a go for Thursday, May 12. It was exactly 10 years since the original diagnosis day in 2006.

The biopsy was true to projected timeline, but the waiting room time seemed to drag on. The use of a camera-guided needle allowed the procedure to be minimally invasive, but due to the anaesthetic, Anne-Marie was very groggy. I was called back to the room in the middle of that situation. 

It took a while to get back to the room at SCCA house to rest. The healing was quick and Anne-Marie was ready to go in the morning.

This time leaving Seattle was a little different. After six years of being tied to the Emerald City, we were going home for good. I wish I could say I was (and am) more sad about it, but I had my fill. 

May 18, 2016

Results were supposed to take up to five days. By the fifth day, Wednesday, May 18th we were sick of waiting. 

Anne-Marie called SCCA on Wednesday morning and left a message requesting the results. Two hours later we got the final diagnosis in the most understated way possible. Around 11:30 AM, Dr. Korde's medical assistant returned Anne-Marie's call and told her the biopsy came back positive for cancer. Our one-in-a-thousand chance was gone. 

Anne-Marie called me and I began contacting all our family and close friends. And then I posted the news to this blog. 


It's crazy how the heart works.  The trained professionals have told you so clearly that you have next to no chance, but somehow hope still rises to the surface.  I can honestly say I didn't really feel the absolute devastation of all that we were going through until that last call on May 18th.

It's always, "This can't be happening." Or, "This shouldn't be happening." And, "We're not gonna let this happen."  Hidden pockets of belief and optimism reveal themselves in the middle of the pressure and pain and you live life to be the aberration.  The outlier.  The exception to the rule.

While I think I should be saying that everything changed on May 18th, I'm pretty sure that it didn't.  We still believe that God can do anything and that the odds don't matter so much and that we are that miracle story.

Do I know how this is all gonna turn out?  No.  But I know that the story I just told wasn't comprised exclusively of anguish, sorrow and despair.  There was plenty of love, compassion and faith mixed in there, too.  (I know some of you may have struggled to see it through the tears.)

We face our future with the confidence that Jesus Christ loves us in our brokenness and our weakness. And that every day, every strength, every hope that we've seen during this dark time--ultimately--has come from Him.  He is the giver of every good and perfect gift.

1 comment:

  1. Your faith is everything. And it touches my soul. Love you guys very much. Please continue to keep us informed in this journey.