"You guys, please be praying for outstanding, awesome, better-than-ever-hoped-for results on the final MRIs of the brain and spine, pretty please. All our hopes and prayers have been towards that radiation killing what's left of the tumor and the chemo keeping any wandering cells from living and growing otherwise. The good part is that in 8 weekdays, radiation is over. The scary part is that in 8 weekdays, radiation is over.
You know what I'm sayin?
This afternoon, after radiation was done, and we were back, and she had done her final 2 therapies of the day, we were sitting here alone in the room for a bit. She was in her wheelchair sitting in front of me as I was in the chair. I was messing around on the computer, answering some facebook stuff and I thought she was just chillin...out of it, if you will. Suddenly, she whispered to me in a desperate voice, "Mom, pray right now over me that this tumor is killed and I'm healed."
She knows more than I think she does. Down deep, even though I'm careful, even though the word has never been uttered around her, hardly ever been uttered from my lips.
Back this summer when we thought I had breast cancer, she prayed and prayed and prayed over me. The surgeons really thought I had cancer. I think I did. I think my Anna's prayers healed me.
She never could say the word cancer concerning me. She called it "Voldemort".