The Diagnosis

Welcome, readers! I'm glad you've joined me on this journey. For those of you who know me, it's no secret I love to write. Transferring my thoughts onto paper (or in this case--digitally) is very therapeutic. These days, I've needed some writing therapy. 

On November 9, 2020, my husband and I were sitting in the emergency room with our little girl, Joy, who had been battling a fever for 10 days prior. We had gotten news from our pediatrician earlier in the day that her labs showed some serious issues going on with her white blood cells, red blood cells, and platelets. We were told not to "google" anything and instead head straight to the ER at Comer Children's Hospital in Chicago.

Around 7:30 that evening, we were called to a room at the end of the hallway because results were in and doctors were ready to give us a preliminary diagnosis. All along, we thought she caught some virus. We were not expecting the following words. 

"All indications are pointing to leukemia, an aggressive cancer found in your daughter's blood. Our oncology team is looking at her blood under a microscope as we speak. I will give you guys a moment alone, but in a few minutes another doctor will come in and go over things in further detail with you."

Then the ER doctor walked out of the room and closed the door behind her.

Jordan and I just looked at each other. In that moment, time stood still. I remember slowly standing up and embracing Jordan and just sobbing. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit the wall. I wanted to wake up from the horrible nightmare that was unfolding. 

I grabbed some scratchy tissues and took a few deep breaths before the oncologist walked in. 

I'm told that once you experience trauma, your brain goes into fight or flight, so I can't remember a whole lot from our conversation with Dr. "Perry", as he said to call him. I do remember words like "she's being admitted to the cancer floor", "it could be a week or a month long stay depending on what type of leukemia", "chemotherapy will start immediately", "blood transfusion", "bone marrow biopsy",  and other terrifying terms. 

Our lives were changed. Flipped upside down. 

This is where our journey began. 

I started this blog to document the road we're on. We were told it will be a marathon, not a sprint. This diagnosis has changed so much of our lives, yet we know down deep in our souls, we serve a God who is unchanging. He has every second of our lives planned out. This wasn't surprising to Him. As much as it hurts, we're trusting He can use this suffering for Joy's good and for the good of our family and friends walking alongside us. 

I can't promise I'll write every week, but I will keep you updated as much as possible. The next post will go into further detail of her diagnosis and first month of treatment.