A Christmas Miracle!

"Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God's peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus." -- Philippians 4:6-7 (NLT)

My grandmother has cancer. For months we've been trying to figure out what? when? how? and it seems we finally have some answers. Initially we were told she had a stroke and a seizure, but it was unclear which caused which. The doctors only did a CT scan, not an MRI. If they had done an MRI, we would've been saved months of stress and worry and possibly already have started treatment. Sigh.

About a month after the stroke/seizure/whatever it was, an MRI was finally done. Four tumors on the left temporal lobe were found, which indicated cancer. An appointment with an oncologist to run certain tests was set. Because of the sizes of the tumors and the fact that there was more than one, it wasn't thought to be brain cancer. It was thought to have originated somewhere else in the body and spread to the brain.

After a mammogram, a sonogram and a bone scan, nothing was found. Where is this cancer? A PET scan and a special breast MRI were ordered, but before that she needed more blood work done. The blood work showed low sodium (almost to a fatal point) and she had to be admitted immediately. (When sodium is low, bringing it up too fast can cause the brain to swell, so the doctors like to monitor it closely.) This was just last week. Yeah, my grandmother didn't even get to come home for Thanksgiving. It wasn't one of my most memorable holidays.

The breast MRI was never done, but it didn't matter because the PET scan showed nothing. It was then that the doctors told us they suspected she had been misdiagnosed; they didn't think she had cancer at all! What an emotional rollercoaster! Well, then what's wrong? The only way to tell was to do another MRI, so that was ordered.

It was then that we received the bad news. The tumors had grown significantly but because none of the scans showed anything anywhere else in her body, it was still confusing for the doctors. Yes, it was probably cancer. Brain cancer, they told us.

Actually, they said this:

"We have a saying in Texas; 'If you hear hoof sounds outside your window, it probably isn't a zebra.'"

The only way to know 110 percent, though, is to do a biopsy. How do you do a biopsy for brain cancer? That's right, by drilling into the brain. Every time I think of brain surgery of any kind, I think of two things: (1) Dr. McDreamy and (2) Hannibal Lecter. No. No, no, no.

Thankfully, her neurosurgeon is one of the best in the country. Word on the street is that Covenant wanted him so badly, they gave him an entire building. Not an entire office. Not an entire floor in a building. An entire building.

I like this guy already.

He also operated on someone from Snyder in the past, who is still in perfect, functional working condition, as well as family from Abilene of a colleague of my mom's. Six degrees of separation, I know.

I still like him!

But, what I like most about him is that he's done waiting. He isn't doing a biopsy, he's jumping right in with surgery. Next Friday, December 10, my grandmother is having brain surgery to have her tumors removed. After recovering from surgery, she'll start her treatment, a combination of chemo and oral therapy. Ten years ago, her prognosis would've been much more bleak, but with the advancements of medicine since then, this has become beatable.

PRAISES! PRAISES! PRAISES!

For the first time since finding out it was more than just a stroke, I feel hopeful enough to actually talk about it. I was afraid to say anything to anyone for fear of "jinxing" her, but I feel good about this. I'm thankful for the doctors, for family and friends and for an ever-loving God that's been watching and protecting my family since this happened. I KNOW that it's because of him that something is finally being done about this. I know we can't stress and fret over what could've been done two months ago. We have to focus on what's going on now and what will go on in the weeks after recovery.

I can't wait to have my healthy, beautiful Nanny back!  

P.S. My grandmother is only 67. She is practically a spring chicken.