The pendulum swings
You know, you would think, after all we’ve been through, that we would learn not to get too comfortable. That we would somehow always be ready, forever on our toes, prepared for whatever comes.
And yet instead, we learn to adapt so quickly that it feels almost seamless. We move fluidly from good to bad to good again. From pessimism to optimism, from despair to hope.
And back again.
Austin had an ultrasound yesterday morning, one month after his last. The cystic lesion that we’ve been watching, the cause of all of our recent worry, has remained the same, no changes, no growth. Which is exactly what we wanted it to do. And which is all that we thought to hope for.
But, of course, as we should know by now, as we should have come to expect, there’s something else. Always, always something else to worry about.
Right near the cystic lesion is a very small mass, probably solid and definitely new. The “new” factor is the most alarming. New is never good in the world of cancer. He had a scan six weeks ago and an ultrasound four weeks ago and this thing was not there then but is there now. Which means, of course and unfortunately, that it’s probably cancer. New cancer.
But (there always a “but” after the good and the bad), we’re not sure. Dr. Auletta has recommended a repeat ultrasound in two weeks which would give us enough time to do a surgery before Christmas if it has indeed grown. If it hasn’t grown, we would probably wait until after the holidays for his regularly scheduled CT scan and then take any necessary action after that.
So the pendulum swings again. We felt so good, relieved, “over it,” for the past ten days. And now we’re back again, on the cusp of surgery and likely kidney failure and all that comes with it. There are many unknowns as of now, but if it is indeed a recurrence, he would likely need some cancer treatment as well, in the form of radiation or chemo in addition to dialysis.
Here we go again.
My heart just took a dive down into my belly. Oh, Kris, this is beyond lousy news. AND you will get through this. AND those 10 days of not thinking about it weren’t for naught. You have become far more resilient than anyone should have to be, but that is one of the positive outcomes of all of this. Those days of feeling good, relieved, not worried, normal are a gift to your family.
I was parent helper yesterday. Lola and I looked for Austin. I thought he had a cold. 🙁 I wish he just had a stinking cold!
Love you.
Yesterday I read your abandonment piece, and marveled at your ability to keep things in perspective, and share this with others at the same time. I still do marvel. When I read today’s blog, I felt deflated, for Austin, for you and Mark, for your entire family. As always we send our love and concern across the wireless miles to you, and regret that we cannot offer the help of being present to lend an actual hand. As you said, you adapt so quickly, that we know you will do whatever needs to be done, maintain your optimistic spirit so you can share that with your boys, and weather this storm also. We send many hugs and wishes for continued strength during the difficult days.
Love, Donna and Tom
This is not “good” news, I agree. However, so many different things have been seen on Austin’s scans in the past, since he’s had so much surgery and so much manipulation of all those little organs sitting in there, that I would say at this point we just don’t know what’s on that scan. So it makes sense to wait and see what’s there two weeks from now – maybe it won’t be there at all! Maybe it will be just one of those things we can’t explain – just like so many other things that have happened along this journey. Barbara