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Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Even Less Sugar: The Truth About the Future

  • Ian will die of brain cancer.
  • I will be a widow.
  • The children will lose their father.

These are the FACTS (barring being hit by a bus).

It's what we do with these facts that matters.


This weekend we had to visit the hospital; Ian accidentally stopped taking one of his medications and thing went downhill quickly. Lots of swelling to lots of ill effect.

After an overnight on steroids, he's back to "normal."

And then we saw the oncologist.

The tumor, which is "cystic" (meaning like a jellyfish, not a golf ball), is still moving. Some of the movement COULD be due to all of the swelling happening up there. Some could be straight-out growth. It's nebulous and hard to measure, because as I said above, it's gooshy. We do know that it is aggressive. It's not in a place they can operate (it's too close to ventricles and such).

What I know is the doctor said things like, "extend your life as much as possible," and "keep you comfortable," and "I'm very worried."

Ian has started a treatment called Avastin which will lessen swelling. It's delivered by IV, every three weeks. He will also remain on Temodar, the pill-form chemotherapy, with 5 days on, 20 days off, etcetc.

Radiation treatment is over. The effects of THAT have not necessarily been realized, in terms of tumor shrinking ... and the radiation itself can cause swelling. So you can see ... SWELLING. Is an issue.

The doctor refuses to give a timeline here. He will tell us what treatment we'll do, and when, but won't give a prognosis. That's ok ... how would we hold him to it, long or short? but the point is, we don't know how much time we have.

None of us do, really.

It's just that for us, that time is less.


  1. Praying that the Lord will bring healing and peace to the whole family.

  2. I am at a loss for words so will not even try. Ian was a continual bright spot for me at school since I have started. Much love and prayers are with you both and your families.

  3. We've never met, and I don't have words... but I know our God is good, He is with you and Ian and your children. And I know I will pray for each of you.

  4. I am sorry to receive this news, but am grateful that you have shared it. My hope is that it is of some comfort that so many are holding your family up in prayer and walking alongside you and Ian.

  5. Praying for Ian, you and the family. God bless you all.

  6. I so admire your ability to state the reality of today so plainly and clearly. We all hope for a miracle intervention, and we wish these things weren't true. I respect you so much for the fact that you are living in reality as it is for today, and that you will love Ian and the kids well through it all. You're a superstar.

  7. You are an amazing woman, Rachel, and, though I have never met him, I am sure that Ian is an amazing man. Your honesty with yourselves and the world as you make this journey is unlike anything I have ever seen/read. I would like to say that I, too, have no words (as I do not for the pain and horror you are living), but I have to voice the other -- the beauty of the way you are living, and sharing, this journey -- the power of your voice, the quality of your love and strength. Many who live long and peaceful, uneventful lives never attain the height of your love nor the depth and grace of your life. May you gain strength through sharing the journey and continue to treasure every moment.

  8. Rachel...just keep.looking up. His hand is there for you to hold it. Love you, girl.