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It's time.

At 3:20pm my phone ran.

It was a Philadelphia area code.

Although we were all discouraged by the initial blood tests showing the B cells in Brady’s peripheral blood had dropped this week, his marrow shows all that they needed to see.

It’s time.

Even as I write this my emotions feel torn in two.

Right now, my heart is split. One half is full of sorrow while the other tells me it is time to rejoice.

Finally. Finally our perfect window has appeared.

And my mind knows we can’t wait any longer.

Brady has been dropping weight steadily the past few weeks. And honestly, I don’t think he knew how desperate of a situation was upon us. This week his oncologist had to have a conversation with him about putting in a feeding tube if he can’t find a way to force himself to eat more and put some weight back on.

Plus, no cancer found in the first MRD test tells us that the likelihood of him having serious side effects is minimal.

So my mind knows that this window is it. It is our chance.

But then there is the issue of the other side of my heart.

Tonight I want desperately to rejoice, but I can’t. I just want to cry.

Cry so hard.

Brady will begin his huCart treatment on December 5. If everything goes well and according to plan, they hope to release him to come home January 10.

It’s Christmas.


We will find a way to make it special.

We will find a way to rejoice in this timing.

We will find a way to be grateful for every day.

We will find a way.

But right now, my heart is just a little bit crushed.

A little bit crushed.

I’m crushed.

Tonight, the kids made some ginger bread houses that we had left from Brady being in the hospital last year.

Cooper cried most of the time because he didn’t understand why he couldn’t just eat all the candy. And to be honest, I wanted to flop on the floor and cry too.

Each of the kids finished their masterpieces and I came to Brady’s.

His twisler house looked perfect.

Putting each of the houses together into a village brought back a flash of memories. All of the ones that make me smile, along with the ones I want desperately just want to forget.

But I had to remind myself.

Brady is here for Christmas. He made it.

He made it another whole year.

His life is a miracle.

Cancer can’t steal another Christmas from us because Christmas lives in our hearts every day.

And Christmas goes where ever we go.

So here is to finding and rejoicing in the spirit of Christmas wherever our road leads.

Shields up.

Swords out.

It is well,


“Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, It is well, it is well, with my soul.”



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