Red wine, guitar hero and a whole lotta prayer...

I've been asked several times over the last few weeks how it is that we are coping. To be honest, there is no answer to that question. As one mom who has walked this road before me said, "It's not like we have a choice. You do what you have to do." You love your child and because of that, you simply keep going, finding strength to do what needs to be done and learning to ignore the things that don't. I don't think that we are any stronger than anyone else or able, in some pre-ordained way, to handle things any better than the next person. I think that it comes down to the simple fact that most people have never been tried, have never experienced the unthinkable and therefore just don't realize the depth of the their own fortitude.

Most of the time, I try to remain upbeat but I would be lying if I told you that it is always this way. There are moments when I am caught unguarded and can feel it steal over me, wrapping it's icy tentacles around my chest. A sense of fear and loss that is so primal that the breath gets caught in my throat and the blood start to leave my head. I know what we're up against. I know what will happen if the treatments don't work, if a cure is not to be found. But, I've also seen what happens to the morale of those around me if I stumble or cracks begin to appear in the facade of strength that I've created. And so, I try to celebrate the little moments, to take joy in the small things- because if things go bad, there will be plenty of time for grief then.