Friday evening
First of all, I want to praise the Lord for an answered prayer. Danny's nephew doesn't have cancer. The mass they saw was a large calcium deposit, which the doctors can take care of!
On to other news.
It turns out that the spot the eye doctor saw in Danny's eye - retinal lesion - is part of the cancer. We figured that's what it was, but hoped it was not. Next week they'll start radiation on Danny's head.
He has a lesion at the back of his brain and now this one at the back of his eye. They began radiation today from the sides instead of straight into his chest. They also fitted him for a mask to wear during the head radiation. He can see and breathe through the mask but it's attached to the table so he can't move his head. They can put the target marks and stickers on it so he doesn't have to have his face and head marked up.
He had some problems with the mask, though. Apparently he's a bit claustrophobic and he began to feel like he was suffocating with the mask. He said he couldn't even move his chin in order to swallow, which just exascerbated the distress he was feeling. They trimmed some off the chin part, and the doctor prescribed Valium for him to take about an hour before radiation next week. That's supposed to help him relax and feel less nervous during the treatment.
We don't know yet what this radiation in his head will really do to him. It makes his chest burn and he's beginning to have more problems swallowing. I'm having to try to fix softer, blander foods for him so he'll at least have something to eat. We got some Ensure for him today to supplement him since he's not eating as much.
The past few days, Danny's been sleeping a lot more in the daytime. He says he just can't seem to keep going - gets so tired. It's all part of this disease and the treatment, I guess.
Our life seems real, and yet surreal. I sat outside this evening, watching as a flaming red sun burned its way into the horizon. Watching as the evening sky changed to orange and pink, then finally to darkness. The breezes, generated by the hurricane so many miles south of us, are a welcome relief to the heat of the day. I know they'll drag rain and maybe strong storms along behind them, but for now the breeze feels good. Maybe the storms will clear the air. But even this - this sunset and these breezes - seemed...not real.
I know very little, but I know a few things. I know God is merciful. I know He cares for our every little need. I know that no matter what the outcome of all this is, He's in control and He will turn what was meant for evil into something good. I'm not ready to say goodbye to Danny. He's not ready to say goodbye to us. And right now, we don't have to. It may be that day is coming, though, far sooner than I'm prepared for. Far sooner than it should be considering our age. I pray when it does that God will comfort us all, and that He will send angels to escort Danny to His heavenly kingdom.
I know that one way or another, Danny will be healed. I want him healed to stay with us. But God may have other plans.
On to other news.
It turns out that the spot the eye doctor saw in Danny's eye - retinal lesion - is part of the cancer. We figured that's what it was, but hoped it was not. Next week they'll start radiation on Danny's head.
He has a lesion at the back of his brain and now this one at the back of his eye. They began radiation today from the sides instead of straight into his chest. They also fitted him for a mask to wear during the head radiation. He can see and breathe through the mask but it's attached to the table so he can't move his head. They can put the target marks and stickers on it so he doesn't have to have his face and head marked up.
He had some problems with the mask, though. Apparently he's a bit claustrophobic and he began to feel like he was suffocating with the mask. He said he couldn't even move his chin in order to swallow, which just exascerbated the distress he was feeling. They trimmed some off the chin part, and the doctor prescribed Valium for him to take about an hour before radiation next week. That's supposed to help him relax and feel less nervous during the treatment.
We don't know yet what this radiation in his head will really do to him. It makes his chest burn and he's beginning to have more problems swallowing. I'm having to try to fix softer, blander foods for him so he'll at least have something to eat. We got some Ensure for him today to supplement him since he's not eating as much.
The past few days, Danny's been sleeping a lot more in the daytime. He says he just can't seem to keep going - gets so tired. It's all part of this disease and the treatment, I guess.
Our life seems real, and yet surreal. I sat outside this evening, watching as a flaming red sun burned its way into the horizon. Watching as the evening sky changed to orange and pink, then finally to darkness. The breezes, generated by the hurricane so many miles south of us, are a welcome relief to the heat of the day. I know they'll drag rain and maybe strong storms along behind them, but for now the breeze feels good. Maybe the storms will clear the air. But even this - this sunset and these breezes - seemed...not real.
I know very little, but I know a few things. I know God is merciful. I know He cares for our every little need. I know that no matter what the outcome of all this is, He's in control and He will turn what was meant for evil into something good. I'm not ready to say goodbye to Danny. He's not ready to say goodbye to us. And right now, we don't have to. It may be that day is coming, though, far sooner than I'm prepared for. Far sooner than it should be considering our age. I pray when it does that God will comfort us all, and that He will send angels to escort Danny to His heavenly kingdom.
I know that one way or another, Danny will be healed. I want him healed to stay with us. But God may have other plans.
Labels: Danny journal
3 Comments:
At 9/24/2005 8:41 PM, Anonymous said…
I am still praying for you all!
Love & Hugs,
Tammy in Maine
At 9/26/2005 7:09 AM, Anonymous said…
Ann-My prayers and thoughts are with you. My heart is breaking for you as I read your posts on your blog. I wish I were closer , so I could just set and hold your hand, and try to comfort you.
Love
Lauraleah
At 9/26/2005 12:01 PM, Anonymous said…
Ann, it just hurts my heart to read your journal.I ache for you and Danny, and I continue to be awed by the way you praise the Lord, even in the midst of the storm.
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