Happy December! Sorry I’ve kept you waiting so long for the next part of our story, but life breaks in and sometimes even the best stories have to wait. I left you all right after I had found the same doctor for Wes that had done surgery on my sister all those years ago, so that’s where I’ll pick up today…
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
We had to wait about a month to get in to see Dr. Bojrab, but as soon as they called us back and he came into the room, I knew God had sent us to the right place. Wes told him his story and he began to tell us how many of these tumors he had seen in his practice over the years and that his was the leading facility in the country right now for this kind of surgery. I shared the story of my sister and how he had been a part of her miracle as well, and even though it had been over 20 years, he remembered her and our family. I felt like I was able to exhale for the first time in weeks, and then the information came pouring out. When he finished speaking and we were asked if we had any questions, I looked straight into the doctor’s face and said, “So, have we come to right place? Can you help us?” He looked right back at me and smiled. “Yes, you’ve come to the right place.”
We all knew that surgery was most likely in Wesley’s future, but we felt compelled to ask about alternatives. That’s when doctor Bojrab and his resident, Dr. Kercher, began to describe a lazer procedure that was showing great promise in treating these types of skull base tumors. The gamma-knife facility at Beaumont Hospital was one of the best anywhere, and Dr. Bojrab felt it might actually be a possibility for us. We were thrilled. The idea that we could choose a short procedure over a lengthy surgery and reduce the risk of permanent facial damage was just too good to be true. But Dr. Bojrab wanted further testing and told us it would take time before a decision could be made. Wes would need testing on his cranial-facial nerves and a new MRI before we could be sure. So we scheduled the needed testing and again, Wes headed back to school.
I think this was probably the hardest part of the waiting for me. We mom’s want things taken care of and made better for our children now- or even better- yesterday. I hated knowing that Wes was there trying to concentrate on school with this thing riding around in his head. I wanted it to just go away, and believe me, I asked over and over for healing for him. But that was not God’s plan.
The testing for the cranial facial nerves was quick and painless, and we were encouraged that none of his nerves were being compromised. The tumor still looked large on the MRI, but it obviously wasn’t wrapping around anything to the point of doing damage yet. We went back for a follow-up appointment and were so surprised and excited when Dr. Bojrab said he thought we could go ahead with the gamma-knife procedure. It seemed like its own miracle, since we had not let ourselves hope that things could be this easy.
So we scheduled the procedure, went to meet the doctors and see the facility, and before we knew it the end of May came and we were headed to the gamma-knife center. The first part of the morning was pretty overwhelming, as Wes had to get a harness screwed into his skull for the procedure. He looked like he was wearing the harness Darth Vader had on when Luke took his mask off at the end of Star Wars. Then they took more pictures of Wes’s head while in the harness so the machine could be calibrated for pinpoint accuracy. Then he came back to the room and we waited while Wes had a little breakfast and for them to come and take him back for the procedure. We had been told it would take a while before they would be ready, so when Dr. Bojrab came in before 30 minutes had passed, we knew something was wrong.
He immediately looked as Wes and said, “We are changing course. Your tumor has grown since the last MRI and the one today, and I don’t feel like it’s safe to go ahead. We need to get in there and get this thing out so we can biopsy it and soon.”
How do you speak when every ounce of air, energy and feeling empties from your body in one cold rush? I kept trying to find my voice, but it just wasn’t there. The doctors left us for a moment and we all cried and held each other and cried some more. The thing we wanted most in the world, dangled so close to our hands, was now gone; the hope we had, shattered. The team took Wes back, removed the harness, bandaged him up and we went home to wait- again- for more tests and a real surgery date this time.
When we got home, Wes went to his room to call his girlfriend, Katie, and Gene and I went out to sit on the swing. You’re probably pretty sure I’m about to say I was angry with God and felt so alone and betrayed, and I’ll admit, there was a little of that. But during times when hope is gone, leaning into God and letting Him carry you when you can’t carry yourself feels so much better. I knew I was about to get back on the emotional roller coaster, but for now it was enough just to cry and feel each emotion completely (thanks to my dearest friend Melissa for reminding me to do that at just the right moment). We didn’t understand, and we didn’t have time to figure it all out because surgery was coming and soon, and we all had to be ready. So there just wasn’t time for much anger or frustration…there was only time to look up and say, “I really hope you’ve got this God, because no one else can make this all OK.”
And that’s where I’ll leave off for now. Christmas is coming, so the rest of my story may have to wait until after the New Year. But know this- we have more to be thankful for this year than ever before, and my best gift on Christmas morning will be having all of my children, healthy and whole, sitting around the Christmas tree. I don’t need anything else- ever! Wishing you much peace and joy this Christmas, and a wonderful season with those you love!