I realize that this is the second post for today, but I wanted to post something that Andy wrote last night while he was unable to fall asleep. I don't know if he intended for this to be posted, but as I read it in the middle of the night and yet again, I think it speaks clearly to the reality that we face...
Parallel Process
As I push Maggie in her stroller, making laps around our usual trek, I know the people that I see don’t understand. They couldn’t even imagine what we’ve been through. I look at them and think: “you just have no idea….”
You don’t know the struggle of starving a baby before a procedure.
You don’t know the feeling of restraining her for an hour. Failed attempt after failed attempt to place an IV.
Your child’s fever is no fun for you, a real nuisance. You wait a day or two for it to pass. I act immediately, knowing my baby’s life could be in immediate danger. Or is it a sign that treatment is failing, that the bad cells are making a comeback?
You watch your child smile and run through the fountain, not a care in the world. You are oblivious to the feeling of never-ending uncertainty and worry. It never goes away.
I don’t hate you for your ignorance. I wish I had your ignorance. I don’t blame you. But you don’t know how good you have it.
You don’t know the pressure of selecting a doctor, a hospital, a treatment plan, to try to save your baby’s life. “Here are your options. None of them are guaranteed. Choose by morning.” Time is a luxury that you don’t have.
You wouldn’t dare consent to having poisons repeatedly and systematically delivered to your child’s body. We did it and will continue to do it. The side effects? You wouldn’t want to know.
Could you ignore your baby’s desperate screams while a tube is forced down her nose to her stomach? She looks into my eyes through her tears, begging for help that I can’t give her. I hold down her writhing body.
I’ll spare you many details, as many are too graphic, too disheartening, too haunting. Words cannot describe what I have seen, what I think. What I feel.
As we continue our walk, Maggie peeks back at me from her seat. She is too young to speak, but my heart is pained knowing what she could be thinking. “Daddy, you just have no idea…..”
7 comments:
You're right. Unless we have had a baby with cancer, we have no idea whatsoever what you're going through.
But I'm glad you can at least reach out to share some of what you experience.
Knowing that in whatever inadequate ways we can, we are reaching back to you.
And continuing to hold you in our prayers.
Love always.
Great Aunt Phyllis
Andy, this is so true. You brought tears to my eyes with this. Unfortunately, I do know about this too. I know about looking into my daughter's eyes and seeing the pain and not being able to help. I know about the starvation every Friday morning. I know about horrible poison that they are putting in her body. I know the side effects and the screaming. I am so sorry for you. I am sorry that I also know some of this. I am grateful that maybe Maggie won't ever remember this. Let's hope that both of our girls beat this horrible disease. We are marching right here with you. -Janel
My heart breaks for you both and Maggie through this horrible trial. Although a complete horror, your writings are very beautiful, because they remind me where we once were and how God provided and got us through to where we are now. May the hope we have in God and Jesus lead Maggie to complete healing. We've been there and it is a complete horror. However, Karrie, a survivor since 2006, through God's hand provides the hope we all need through the battles. We pray you will one day experience the peace we have after it is all over...even when you fear it will return. We continue to pray!
Thank you so much for sharing these thoughts. I cannot imagine what you guys have been going through. there is a uniqueness to illness which just cannot be understood by those who are not directly involved. I will not pretend to think otherwise.
Please know that I think of you guys often and you are on my prayer list. Also, while I do not and admit I can not fully understand, know I am always willing to listen. Perhaps someone completely outside the situation can be helpful. Jeff know how to get a hold of me.
in the mean time, I wish you continued strength for this journey you never wished to take and grace for the walking all the same.
In Christ,
Bryce Miller
What an inspirational writing, Andy, and I don't Know what you must go through, and whatever my comments, they seems so inadequate. I have seen Maggie for the first time on Saturday and such an adorable little girl and what a patient Mother. Maggie and I went for a walk and picked the neighbors flower, who wasn't too pleased. I now know Maggie and that connects me now more than ever to her journal to healing.
Andy's words are so true and it is through sharing them with us that we can somehow feel connected to you, even knowing full well that we truly have "no idea." I hope that both of you will keep sharing your hope, your frustrations, your sorrows, your joys, and every aspect of your journey. You are touching lives in ways you cannot imagine.
Thank you. Shelly
Wow Andy, that really puts everything in perspective. While someone else might experience some of these horrible moment, they cannot understand the pain that YOU feel. That was a really strong passage, because it is how you feel. Thanks for sharing those difficult feelings.
Your friend,
Paul
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