Monday overnight I experienced insomnia as my brain started doing math (not my forte). The year 2020 has been an astonishing year of unusual statistics for our family! I write this actually with detachment and awe--truly, trust me, no feelings of "why me?" or "why us?" or despair.
February--Tornado: chances are 1 in 4, 513,000
On February 6, a tornado passed through our back yard, necessitating 8 huge trees coming down (done), a roof replacement (done), and a fence replacement (not yet completed). I looked up the odds of a tornado hitting one's self or home: now that is a rabbit hole if ever I've found one. I don't think anyone has figured out a real, hard statistic (this article is interesting), but let's go with 1 in 4,513,000 . . . which is such a small percentage that it looks like a number I do not even comprehend: 2.21582096e-7.
Feb. 26--Surgery: chances of condition are 0.45%
John has a salivary duct stone, which is a rare condition symptomatic in only 0.45% of the American population. He had endoscopic surgery locally on February 6, but it was unsuccessful because the stone is already too large to be removed that way.
On Monday, I rescheduled his surgery. He had been scheduled to go to a national specialist in Memphis, TN, for a traditional surgery on June 16, which obviously was delayed because that ended up being the exact day of Thomas's open biopsy surgery. Now John's own surgery is rescheduled for the first week of August and we think it could all line up very well: Thomas should be in the second week of his second chemo cycle--so just hanging out at home and not feeling acutely ill. That is the week Chris's employer is requiring all employees to take the week off (a financial measure to recover from the coronavirus lockdowns), so Chris will be home from work and able to drive John there and back. We have hired a nanny to live with me during his five days or so of absence--just in case of emergency, like Thomas develops a fever and I have to be at the hospital within the hour.
One might ask why we rescheduled this at all during Thomas's treatment plan. John is in some pain and, if his condition flares up during this time, he will experience another facial infection--too near the brain for comfort. We considered delaying until October when possibly Thomas's treatment will be all done, but who can predict cancer? We might delay that long and Thomas's treatment is not done, but then he would be sicker and more delicate, unlike now when he is strong. Thus, we are "falling forward"!
March 20--Coronavirus: who could possibly calculate the chances?
Chris' mother Dottie is still in the hospital recovering from COVID-19 and ARDS four months after her entrance. A lot of our friends think she must be home and well by now, which is an understandable mistake. Of course, it is nigh impossible to calculate the chances of this happening to her, given that the COVID-19 statistics are an intentionally impossible mess in this country and worldwide. But let's just say that there have been 11,769,600 cases in America out of 330,000,000 population, so already one had a 3.5% chance of even catching COVID-19. Of that small percentage, only a small percentage actually get a severe case like this. (For example, 541,488 have been counted as COVID deaths, so that would be a 4.6% of dying if you catch COVID.) On top of it all, of course, statistics vary wildly by age group, so children ages 0-10 have a statistical chance of zero of dying, but people ages 70+ and 80+ have a much higher chance. Anyway, the statistics are an impossible mess, but we can all agree that Dottie's chances of experiencing this severely debilitating expression of the virus were very small. (Please continue to pray for her--and for Chris who is experiencing stress with his beloved mother and beloved boy both seriously ill.)
June 5--Cancer: chances of condition are 0.0002%
And, of course, in June Thomas was diagnosed with neuroblastoma cancer that only 600 children (ages 0-5) experience each year. Given that there are 23.3 million American children ages 0 to 5, that means Thomas had a 0.002% chance of having this cancer.
Good is good, all the time, even when the statistics are really astonishingly odd!
I have been a long time reader of your blog after 'finding' you through This Ain't The Lyceum and Quick Takes on a Friday. I have been thinking and praying for you as I kept checking back every few days without seeing a blog post since the end of May and Joseph's First Holy Communion. I knew it was likely that something had happened and am upset to hear that Thomas has cancer and the journey your family is on. I am, however, relieved to know that you are all alive! I will be praying for the whole family from Cape Town, South Africa.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reaching out to me, Nicola! Your concern touches me. We appreciate so much the prayers from across the world.
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