I like writing about politics and statesmanship, heaven knows there's plenty to write about that. I'm going to take a break today though from my predisposed political bent and talk about a different topic. This is one of my life topics, and a very important life at that.
My precious granddaughter who is sixteen years old has been suffering from cancer for over ten years now. It's a very serious and life-threatening form of brain cancer called metastatic epitheloid glioneuronal. When she was initally diagnosed, the prognosis was grim. She was in the care of a team of doctors at Texas Children's Hospital in Houston. They decided that surgery was the best initial approach. They operated and were able to remove 'most' of the tumor. As is often the case with cancer, especially in the brain, the tumor ensconced itself in the cranial cavity like hot lava oozing down a mountainside, embedding itself in every nook and crevice along the way. Their efforts to remove almost all the tumor was nothing short of miraculous. Years went by and she lived a normal childhood life.
Then, it began to rear its ugly existence once again. At the time there were some cutting-edge treatments available; radiation and proton therapy. I can't offer much of an explanation of these therapies as such is way above my pay grade. But empirical evidence convinces me that it is a life-saver, at least it was for my granddaughter. After the treatment program she was diagnosed as 'in remission'. Some of the tumor, which was now greatly reduced in size was still there but determined to be 'dormant'. One pitfall is the radiation procedures can and do have side-effects. Hers was Moya-moya. This is a rare progressive condition that affects blood vessels in the brain. Doctors were near certain it was caused by the massive doses of radiation she had received. Months later, she suffered a stroke.
She survived the stroke and after extensive rehab was able to resume a near normal life once again. A few more 'more-or-less' uneventful years passed. One evening, recently, she began having severe headaches and vomiting and was rushed to the emergency room. Cat-scans and MRI's revealed the tumor had grown and was spreading again. Once again an oracular team of doctors convened to determine the best path forward. Because we humans can only endure so much radiation in our lives, radiation/proton therapy was not an option. Which only left one. Surgery. Surgery is by nature fraught with risk. Any type of surgery, some more or less than others. Brain surgery is likely the apex on the risk curve. And for the second time... The first time she had brain surgery she was a mere five years old. To a five year old, brain surgery, toe surgery, what's the difference. Everyone around her was telling her you're going to be fine. That was good enough. The second time though, she's sixteen years old with a significantly heightened sense of self awareness. She's a very bright young lady and knew the gravitas of the situation this time and she was scared to death. The moments I spent with her just before the surgery, seeing her fearfulness was heart-breaking and life-changing for me.
She not only survived the surgery she came out like Rocky pumping his fists in the air on the steps of the museum in the movie "Rocky". The morning after the surgery she was awake and talking almost as if nothing had happened. I felt as if I had entered an alternate existence. How can this be happening? The sense of relief was probably akin to being rescued from a tsunami. We were prepared for whatever was to be, but ultimately were granted a God-given reprieve.
This little girl in her short sixteen years of life has endured more pain and suffering than most people endure in a lifetime. And if you were to walk in her room at the moment you would see a smile brighter than the sun. She is my hero. If I can muster the courage I have seen in her for the rest of my days, I will be proud. The other heroes I have encountered in this ordeal are the gifted doctors that have so compassionately cared for her. And saved her life, more than once. There are a great deal of really smart, gifted people in the world. And then, there are doctors. Getting up in the morning (actually all hours of the day and night...) and going to work and saving someone's life. We are just so proud, glad and blessed that on one of those days, the life they saved was my precious granddaughter. Again.
Godspeed to doctors the world over.
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