Skip to content

The C Word, Part 4

August 29, 2011

I know it’s been 6 months and no one is probably interested in this “series” anymore, but I’m going to add another chapter anyway.  Because hey! Both kids are at school and it seems like more fun than cleaning house.

You can read the previous installments here: part 1, part 2, part 3

From Part 3:

While I was waiting and worrying, a pediatric oncologist was taking her kids for a well-check.  Taking them to see our pediatrician.  And sitting in the exact same exam room I had been in with Brock just a few hours earlier.

“Hi Dr. M.  While you’re here, I need to tell you about one of my patients that I saw earlier today…”


I’d been waiting anxiously at Jay’s office for a few hours.  Jay was away from the office shooting a commercial, his parents were there with me (it’s a family business) and both of my kids were taking naps in the back room when the phone finally rang.

I wish I could remember more of the specifics of the phone call.  I know our pediatrician told me the results of the blood work.  The only number I remember was his platelet count: 3,000.  A normal platelet count is 150,000 – 450,000.  He told us that he’d talked to some doctors at the local children’s hospital and that he’d made arrangements for Brock to be directly admitted, right away. 

For some reason, remembering the next few moments are what brings me to tears more often than any other events of that day.  I walked to the back room, woke Jaycie up from her nap and just held her and cried.  It was our last few moments of ‘normal’ – even though it wasn’t really normal anymore.  I cried because our lives would never be the same.  I cried because I was going to have to leave her with Jay’s parents while we took Brock to the hospital.  I cried because the future was so terrifyingly uncertain. 

Brock was still sleeping – he’d been sleeping all day, a result of his hemaglobin being dangerously low.  I can’t remember when Jay returned to the office but it must’ve been quickly because both of us woke Brock up, got in the car and headed to the hospital. 

We still didn’t know for sure that it was cancer.  The pediatrician told us that it could be leukemia or it could be some type of auto-immune disorder.  Of course we were praying for the latter.  On the way to the hospital I told Jay that no matter what happened I KNEW we’d be ok; that I knew, with absolutely no doubt, that God would take care of us – I just didn’t want this to be our road.  I remember repeating that phrase over and over during the first few days.  “I know we’re going to be ok – I just don’t want this to be our road.”

When we got to the hospital, we parked in the parking garage and started the long walk across the skybridge and into the hospital.  As we walked through that skybridge Jay commented on how it smelled like hospital and I remember thinking that it was a smell that I was going to hate – one that I would be all too familiar with. 

We walked into the admissions office, holding a sleeping 11 month old boy, and told them his name.  There’s no way we could’ve know that it would be 133 days before he would see the outside of that hospital again.

{to be continued}

2 Comments leave one →
  1. August 29, 2011 12:11 pm

    I care about this series, even though I don’t know you. We think you guys are amazing and have followed Brock’s story from the beginning. Keep the faith. YOu are a very talented writer…

  2. Mary J permalink
    August 29, 2011 6:31 pm

    I also care about the series, you all are in my prayers!!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: