The Day After the Second Worst Day of Our Lives

It's hard to describe what we're going through right now. On one hand our life marched on today to the same rhythm as the day before yesterday --- meetings and calls for work, the kids went to school, etc., but on the other hand everything has completely changed.

We spent the day getting into action -- got the ball rolling on getting a second opinion as well as a radiation consult. Our strong sense is that we'll end up back in chemo but it seems prudent to understand all of the treatment options. The reality is that all of the options have serious drawbacks in terms of long term toxicities and the doctors don't really know enough about the disease to predict which of the various options might have the best chance of helping our child.

To make matters worse, our lead doctor called tonight and told us that on closer review the radiologist thinks they may have spotted a second tumor in her brain. This one is very small (3 mm) and may have been there all along, but it picked up the contrast material, so they're worried. This is NOT supposed to happen and could be a devestating development for Samantha if true. The radiologists are going to look at this more closely in their clinic tomorrow and try to decide how concerned they are about this and what implicitions it may have for treatment.

Cindy and my emotional state is, quite frankly, fragile. I found myself near tears several times today at random moments (and this was before learning about the possible second tumor). Our emotions are running the gamut -- angry, anxious, sad, scared -- mostly scared I'd say, for what the future may bring. I have often said over the past two years that the uncertainty is the hardest part, but if you tell us what needs to get done, we'll get it done. Turns out I liked yesterday's uncertainty a whole lot more than todays. What happens if the things that can be done don't work?

AJ