Tom's look back at Amanda finding peace in the storm...

On June 30, 2014 Amanda had her end of treatment MRI.   At that point, Amanda had finished her treatment plan of 12 monthly treatments of chemotherapy drugs and bio-therapy infusions.  On July 1, we received the results confirming that the area that the doctors were keeping an eye on was indeed tumor growth despite all of their efforts to kill the cancer. 

On the day we received the results of the MRI, before we even left the doctor’s office, Amanda was already asking what the results were.  I remember holding back the tears as she was so strong in her questioning, ready to take on the answer face to face.  Looking back, the continued weakness and slight physical signs were there, but we tried to contribute it to a buildup of chemo in her body.  But Amanda was extremely in tune to her body,  I think she already knew.  I told her to let us check out and we would discuss it when we got to the car.

Once we got to the car, she asked again what the results showed.  With tears flowing, Sandy and I broke the news that the MRI showed that the tumor was continuing to grow.  She cried and shut everything, including us, out.  It was a long ride home in silence.  As I drove, Sandy sat in the back seat with Amanda, and all Amanda did was look out the window.  I kept trying to imagine what must be going through her mind while at the same time dealing with the news myself.

We arrived home and she went straight to her room.  Sandy and I followed and sat with her on her floor as she initially tried to push us away again.  This time we stayed and held each other close as we three sat there crying.  This was the first time we had the hard conversation about what the MRI results meant, lack of effective options, and even the real possibility of dying.  To hear Amanda crying as she stated “I don't want to die!” hurt so deeply.  To hear our daughter, who hated going through surgery, radiation, and chemo treatments state that she would do any of these again if she needed to simply reaffirmed her statement of not wanting to die.  We then had to tell her only one of those options were available, but that even that option would not kill the cancer.  

We talked about what dying meant for her as a child of God through Jesus Christ, and that at this point we were completely in His arms.  If there was going to be a miracle, this would be the best time, when God would get the glory and nothing else.  She was concerned about being away from everyone she knew and loved.  We talked about how she would not be alone, but with God, who loves her more than anything she has ever known here.  We told her that  we would be the ones having to suffer through the pain of losing her, not the other way around.  

Sandy and I were able to offer comfort to her by telling her that our plans for her future were not changing despite this news.  That the plans we had for the future were the same:  that weekend we were going to be with extended family for a week, she would still ride at ROCK next year, and in a couple of months we planned on her starting school and that she was already enrolled, etc.  We told her that we pray like we have from the beginning; asking for a miracle, for healing, and trusting God no matter what the outcome.  The conversation and prayer time seemed to allow her to better wrap her mind around the situation.

We had to wait two weeks to allow her body to recover from her last treatment cycle before we could start any other treatment options.  During that time Amanda continued to slowly worsen.  Her walking was unsteady again, she was weakening, and her body just didn't feel right according to her.  It was also during this time Sandy I had conversations between us of what she must be thinking and how a 10 year old processes this information.  She didn't talk much about it.  

It was the early morning hours of July 18, 2014 around 3:00 a.m.  Amanda had been having trouble sleeping at night; up every couple of hours to use the restroom but then unable to get back to sleep due to being uncomfortable and “not feeling right.”  There was one particular time that she woke up and seemed to be very anxious.  She was physically calm but through her voice, her breathing, and her exasperation, I could tell there was anxiety.  I went around and sat next to the bed where she was lying.  I took her hand and asked her if she was scared.  “Yes.” she replied.  “What are you afraid of?” I asked. --no answer-- “Are you afraid of hurting?” “Yes.” she answered.  I assured her that we were going to do all that we could to keep her comfortable and keep her from hurting.  I then asked her, “Are you afraid of dying?” “Yes.” she replied.  We talked, as before, about the promises from God, about what happens to us as Christians when we die, what that means for us, and about heaven.  I told her it was understandable why she was scared but that she didn't have to be.  

“How do we know it's real Dad?” she asked.  “Know what's real sweety? Heaven?” I said.  “Yes” she replied.  I told her because God tells us that is where we go if our faith is in Jesus.  We talked about trusting God. “How do we know God is real?” she asked.  The scripture the Spirit had recently put on my heart from a recent bible study was Romans 5: 1-5.  We read it and talked about the hope we have in God's glory through faith in Jesus Christ.  We talked about her faith in Jesus and about evidence of the Holy Spirit in her life.  We can be sure of our hope because God poured his love into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.  That was our conversation...

It was like in her heart she said, Okay, I'm good, that’s what I needed to hear.  From there, for the first time, she opened up and talked about what she wanted if she died.  In later conversations, she always followed that up with, “but there's still time for that miracle!”  The first thing she asked was that we don't ever stop talking about her.  Then she told me not to let her younger cousins forget her and to tell the baby due in December about her.  The last thing she told me that night was that she wanted a vanilla birthday cake with her picture on it every year for her birthday.  The anxiety I saw that early morning I never saw in her again.  She was confident of her salvation.

In the following days I followed up with her on her question of how we know God is real.  I pointed her to how we know God is real through his creation (Romans 1:19-20, Psalm 19:1) Amanda loved God's creation; people, the outdoors, plants and animals.  We also had discussions about how God revealed himself through the prophets and most greatly in these last days through his son, Jesus (Hebrews 1:1-2).  Each conversation allowed her to open up more about how she wanted things to go if she died, again following it up with, “but there's still time for that miracle!”  

We discussed treatment options on July 21, had another MRI on the 22 to help us decide which way to go, and decided to continue on another chemotherapy drug on the 23.  We all knew the effects of this chemo where minimal at best, but that it might buy us more time.  It was on this ride home from the clinic on the 21 that I first remember Amanda saying, “It's not goodbye, but see ya’ later.”  I remember how those words brought me peace.  She understood, she was confident, she was not afraid.

Writing this and looking back, it leaves me speechless to see how quickly things progressed after the MRI on June 30.  At the time, it seemed to me like months instead of just over a month.  We had many prayers during that month's time.  In a later post, we will share how God answered those prayers.

~Thomas

John 16:33

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”