Ready for the Hospital

We have been absent from our family blog for one month exactly as our son Thomas was diagnosed with cancer. We were publishing over at CaringBridge (https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/thomaslauer/), but are now going to try to bring the two together seamlessly in order to continue the family blog I have written for 14 years. This blog post is copied from CaringBridge and is being published retroactively. Please subscribe to our family blog to receive updates as I publish!

I wish I could remember clearly how many times the Body of Christ has shown up on our doorstep unannounced--in the last days, particularly--serving and loving on us. Sometimes it is something grand--like the Traveling Mary statue that was delivered to our door--and sometimes it is something wee--like yesterday when I was working in the kitchen at length and went to the garage for two minutes at most, only to return and discover a beautiful gift bag on my kitchen counter containing homemade dessert bread from a neighbor who had come and vanished like a little fairy.

The Traveling Mary story is worth sharing. A ministry is run out of a local parish started by a woman, now deceased and we hope intervening for us from heaven, who bought a beautiful Marian statue at Lourdes, France, site of the apparition of Our Lady to Bernadette. One can sign up to have this statue in one's home and honor Our Lady for a rotating period of time, but also sometimes Our Lady herself makes it very clear where she wants to go, showing up unbidden.

I knew none of this when my doorbell rang and I opened it to a neighbor and her 3- and 5-year-old boys. I've driven past them playing on their driveway innumerable times but had no idea of their name or that her boys go to school at our very own parish. This woman herself has a serious health problem and had to have her own brain surgery delayed due to the COVID lockdown (please pray for her, God knows who she is), so when Thomas's Caring Bridge site became known to her, she felt strongly that the statue should go to me next. Some days this dear lady's legs don't work well, but that particular day they did and she insisted on walking the statue to us, enveloped in its beautiful, custom-sewn carrying bag, to deliver because she knew we were desperately waiting for Thomas's MYC-N results.

She didn't know how a dark mist was enveloping Chris and me. He and I hadn't yet shared that with each other, as I think we are trying very hard to be--not fake--but strong and happy for each other and for the children. The truth is that he and I were each feeling descended upon by Darkness on Monday and Tuesday, so Our Lady's traveling statue showing up to grace our home for our family's evening rosaries meant a lot to us.

On Tuesday, we had had a social visit scheduled since a month prior with our farming friends, but we had cancelled it because Thomas should have already started chemotherapy. However, chemo was rescheduled twice, so Tuesday morning I reached out to my friend asking if, even though we had cancelled, would they still want to come over for dinner?

It turned out to be such a joy to have their presence when we received the good news from our oncologist (Stage 3, not Stage 4). I was actually just sitting with my girl friend, our toddlers playing at our feet, starting to get teary as I described what Stage 4 would mean, when we received the relieving news. The mood was joy-filled and we all had ice cream to celebrate. Sweet Thomas at four years old remains, of course, clueless as to these lab results and just knows he has a lump in his tummy and is going to take medicine through his port to shrink it . . . and he gets to play with Miss Haley!

Otherwise, I've mostly been busy organizing. I've lined up three babysitters to help us over the next week. My friend has coordinated meal coverage for us. I ordered our weekly groceries via Instacart to be delivered while I am gone. Chris and I ordered Thomas's birthday gift, as well as his sacramental holy card commemorating his Confirmation and First Holy Communion. The children and I picked up the entire house neatly. I caught up on laundry and packed our suitcase (for the third time).

I won't be here to organize our regular Independence Day festivities. I told the children where the bin of patriotic decorations are in the attic and I wrote on the calendar that they are supposed to decorate our family wagon in order to attend the neighborhood (social distancing) parade led by a fire truck. It's a hit every year! A dear lady whom I've never met from our parish--dressed festively in red, white, and blue--dropped by today with a bag bursting with Independence Day sweet treats. I got a little teary saying how glad I was that the gang at home would have these even though I wouldn't be there to make us read the Declaration of Independence, to feel like a Nervous Nellie while Chris sets off small fireworks, and to serve festive food. (Indeed, I will be absconding with a portion of these sweet treats for Thomas and I to eat on Saturday in the hospital!)

The children got to go swimming. Mary (11) and I slipped out for two hours of girl time. Thomas has independently made so many crafts from a recycling-crafting book a friend gave to him! He even made a bead maze out of paper cups (https://youtu.be/VnhWaa5e3gQ). Joseph got a new charge cord for his RC car that has been sitting idle, so he has been zooming the vehicle here, there, and everywhere. We've played with water beads and made a shadow theater in the canvas play tent a parishioner gave us. I've played so many rounds of Dino Dig with Thomas. Chris and three children attended the Wednesday evening Latin Mass.

And now we are ready for chemotherapy as we will ever be!