Good morning…
For years and years I have loved my friend Jennifer. Quiet and quirky. Compassionate and crazy bright. Jennifer and I met in Bible study when her son and daughter were toddlers. God joined us for divine reasons invisible back then. I remember when Jennifer told me that her five year old Audrey was limping a lot on Halloween night, limping so much she wanted to end candy collection early, an unheard of request for this up-for-anything child. Jennifer took Audrey to the doctor the next day and by weeks’ end she received a diagnosis of cancer. That was the fall of 2010.
Audrey endured round after round of painful treatment and was in remission for nearly two years. I was sitting in a booth at California Pizza Kitchen in the mall with my own kids when I got a life-changing text: “Audrey relapsed.” My heart sank. My eyes teared up. Right away I called Jennifer back. Though we spoke very briefly, our hearts shared the huge heaping heaviness. How could this be? We thought the nightmare of cancer was a thing of the past.
Audrey was treated again into remission and, about five years ago, a motley crew of marvelous, middle aged moms walked up beside me and Jennifer in our Friday morning Bible study. I think we were only really together in my living room for one semester, maybe two, but out of our time grew our “Fab 5” friendship. We created a group text so we could be in constant contact, whether near or faraway the five of us stayed in touch. Our “Fab 5” friendship became crucial as another relapse occurred. This time I was working out on a hotel elliptical machine in North Carolina when the group text came in. Devastating. Completely devastating.
Audrey’s cutting edge treatments took the family to different states as they continued to pour every ounce of their energy into keeping their daughter alive. Ohio. Kentucky. NYC. When Jennifer was in Atlanta, the “Fab 5” friends would gather for lunch or retreat to a lake house, meet for a drink or a dinner as schedules allowed. Purely out of mutual love, we provided meals and holiday gifts, offered child care and errand help, and proudly enjoyed Audrey’s school Christmas performance as Jesus’ mom Mary. Maybe better than all of these loving expressions was our string of heart-to-heart texts, typed and received anytime of day or night, when the light of hope grew dim and dark.
Why do I tell you about our “Fab 5” friendship? Because today Jennifer and Audrey are in for NYC for cancer scans at Sloan Kettering. These scans are crucial. Her dear dad Ben opened the heart of their family and let us in through his Caring Bridge post yesterday.
“Audrey and Jennifer will travel to New York yet again for the 4th round of the bivalent vaccine trial. She will also have to endure more scans and more bone marrow aspirates to check for cancer. This will be her first set of scans while being completely on the vaccine trial (without chemo or antibodies). To say Jennifer and I are nervous is an understatement. Basically, these scans will tell us if the treatment is working or not. So, we are caught between a line of hope and fear. Audrey has made it so far and we just want to will her to survival. Almost all of the children that were diagnosed with her disease that relapsed are either no longer with us or are in dire condition.
It is a lonely place knowing that your child has lived longer than most. We used to look to other parents for advice as they had more experience with trials and now I find that parents worldwide are looking to us for advice on what to do. It is a scary predicament to not have the answers when your child has suffered so much and continues to fight for her life while others are asking you on how they should save their child’s life. We all just want a path that leads to life. So far, Audrey has been that trailblazer. We just want her to continue to navigate this perilous terrain safely.
I will meet Jennifer and Audrey on Thursday night and the results of the scans will hopefully be read on Friday. It is only a one day trip but it is brutal to be in the hospital by yourself awaiting news. Jennifer and I need to be together. We will either be in a state of euphoria with joyful news, or in a pit of agony as our lives are collapsed by this disease yet again. We are praying so hard that she is clear. Audrey has so much potential to give to this world. She is our joy. She is as smart as a whip, doesn’t complain about work, and has a drive to always improve herself that most people twice her age do not have. She is so excited to be going to middle school next year and is already planning her extracurricular activities. I know God has done great things in her life; I just feel the story needs to go on. I desperately want her to have a happy, long life. She has so much more to contribute.”
So please join the “Fab 5” and the DeShelters as we pray boldly for a positive outcome to this week’s scans. Pray that the scans produce the three beautiful, little letters that always fill our hearts with joy: N.E.D. (No Evidence of Disease). What a life-giving Easter gift: N.E.D.
For I am the LORD your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, “Do not fear; I will help you” (Isaiah 41:13, NIV).
…Sue…
