Sometimes we win. Just sometimes.
I was talking to the kid that checked me in for service on my car, when I noticed a scar on the left side of his head. I had to ask him. Was it was head trauma or was brain surgery? With a look of surprise on his face, he proceeded to tell me that he had brain surgery. At the age of 18, he was diagnosed with an oligodendroglioma. For you people that don’t know, that’s a brain tumor and for him, it was recurrent cancer.
For those that don’t know, brain cancer is graded; not staged. Grades I and II are, for the most part, almost always considered benign. I know this because my son, Ethan, died of a malignant tumor. I, myself, have a benign brain tumor on my corpus callosum. It’s funny the things that life teaches you. I found out the difference when the doctors discovered that I had it just a mere month or two into my son’s battle for his life.
Grades III and IV are almost always considered malignant. The kid told me the story of how his tumor was discovered and how he underwent radiation and chemo. He spoke of his fear back then and how the neurosurgeon nipped something while resecting (cutting out) the tumor. He said is was so very scary. I know, first hand, exactly what he means.
As my heart wept and my eyes filled with tears, I asked him if he was NED (No Evidence of Disease). “Yes and hopefully…”. He never did finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. I knew what he wanted to say. I shared his hope. Secretly, I prayed to see him the next time I had my car serviced. I hoped to see him each time thereafter too.
When he was finished speaking, I told him about Ethan. He told me how happy he was to be on the other side of things and how sorry he was about the loss of Ethan. It seemed to mean more coming from him. He knew..he really did understand.
My heart swelled with happiness and sadness all at once. Sadness because it reminded me of my little man’s fight and the huge loss that I carry every day. Happiness because standing there was proof that brain cancer doesn’t always win. Sometimes, our team catches a break. Sometimes, we win. Just sometimes.
