Oncology Department
Today we met our oncologist. Somehow you never think you’ll push the elevator button for that floor.
I was still in my pajamas when I realized the oncology office had been trying to reach me the day before. Liam was scheduled for an MRI and CT, both with contrast and then an appointment with the oncologist. We should have left ten minutes prior. I called a friend to come stay with the girls, woke Liam, grabbed Harrison out of bed, grabbed a diaper bag, shoved some Lara bars in it and we sat in the driveway ready to pull out until my friend got here. Not exactly the way you want to prep for five to six hours at the hospital, but it works.
God answered our very specific request and gave us such a kind doctor. She said we really don’t know what we’re looking at until we have a biopsy. My hope rose just a little, but when I told Liam later he said, “Mom, you know what happens when you do that. You just crash again later.” People know their own bodies. Liam is always the positive one. And in that moment I knew we didn’t need a biopsy except to tell us what kind of cancer was in his leg.
That day Liam limped less than he had in weeks. I was carrying Harrison and a huge diaper bag and struggled to keep up with him. I remembered Paul’s prayer the night before. Maybe God had healed him.
Liam had a lot of ongoing pain, especially in his knee and leg. Every once in awhile he would get a sharp, stabbing pain. He would joke, “Well, the cancer just took another bite.” It made me want to laugh and cry all at the same time. How had such a ravenous monster dared to grow in his leg?
That night as we sat to discuss what we’d been told, Harrison got up and walked a few steps, tumbled, laughed, walked a few steps, tumbled, laughed, walked a few steps all around the living room. I suddenly realized he hadn’t taken any steps since the night we told Liam what the X ray showed. Was God reminding me that Liam would rise and walk again?