Tomorrow (March 6th) marks 6 months since I first brought Tyler to the ER in September, and it also happens to mark 3 weeks on life support.
Before his doctors knew Tyler had a particularly nasty subtype of AML that would require a bone marrow transplant, we were initially told his entire treatment would last 6 months, mostly inpatient. That seemed completely overwhelming to us all at the time! Then we heard he would need a transplant, but still finish up his inpatient portion within 6 months. We then readjusted to the idea of a transplant and the months of recovery and special care he’d need post-transplant.
At no time did I ever envision that at 6 months he’d be this critically ill and on life support in the PICU. I’ve often had nightmares of him dying of his leukemia, but never dreamed he’d come so close to death as a result of one single chemotherapy drug, given over four days, meant to prepare him for his transplant.
Now our six months of inpatient plus twelve months of BMT recovery has turned into something much more extensive and frightening. Each new day on the oscillator extends his ultimate time in the PICU, then oncology ward, then inpatient rehab, then outpatient rehab. Rehab will be required to get his lungs stronger (he will likely be oxygen dependent for a while), to get his muscles ready to support his weight again, and to relearn daily tasks such as eating, putting his shoes on, walking, climbing stairs, holding a pen, texting, and playing video games.
The months looming ahead of us seem overwhelming, and we are ever mindful that we can’t even experience those months unless Tyler is able to recover from his current precarious condition.
Since Tyler has remained completely sedated and paralyzed for the past 21 days, he is not even aware of these circumstances. When we all celebrate Tyler “waking up,” he will be facing for the very first time the severity of his condition and the painful road that lies ahead of him.
While so much is uncertain, we are certain of one thing: God will see us through. While I can’t imagine what the next 6-month report will be, God knows. Back in September, He knew we’d be at this very place right now. And He saw us through each day leading up to today. He gave us moments of joy and laughter, celebration and exuberance. He held us tightly during the moments of tears and helplessness, hopelessness and fear. He did it before, and He’ll be faithful to do it again!
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 15:13)