A Change

All I can say it that changes in glioblastoma can come quickly and from no where - or at least it seems. Lee had been out riding his mtb on July 7, and he noticed his left arm felt “tired.” He took a few more rides in the coming days and on each one he fell, feeling a bit off. Then, he became lethargic, sleeping more, sitting more, and dragging his arm and foot more. We let the neurologist know and we he had an MRI scheduled for July 21. I typed we because it feels like is it us. 

Lee knew something was happening. He could feel it. He sensed it. I still am in shock that he could be riding a bike, working on the house, and happy - then the next day the disease shows progression. 

I’ve heard glioblastoma is a roller coaster and it is. It’s so hard. There’s no way to adequately explain it to anyone unless you’ve been there. The changes I often see are minute - most people wouldn’t notice. But I do. Lethargy. Changes in thinking and reasoning. Walking. Arm movement. 

My heart breaks. I so want him healed 100%. I know God is able. But I also know sometimes he says no and we don’t know why. 

We celebrated our 33rd anniversary yesterday. He gave me a beautiful love knot necklace - and cried. I knew why. We pray there will be many more but we simply don’t know. 

And if I’m super honest, I’m struggling. I’m a school principal and COVID shut-downs loom on every decision we make. Teachers are stressed, families and kids are stressed, and I am stressed. I can’t make a decision that will make everyone happy. I can’t be on campus or I could expose Lee who is very immune compromised. But my being away from campus while teachers are moving rooms and setting up is not helping teachers to be happy. It’s so incredibly difficult - this balance between work and COVID and GBM. 

So in this difficult time, I will lean on the ONE who doesn’t change. I am letting Him carry me through.