I vividly remember a phone conversation I had with my friend Tracy precisely one year ago.  At the time, Drake and I had to wait a full weekend before we would be able to meet with the neurologist to discuss the results of Jud’s first MRI, but we also knew that our boy did not have a brain tumor.

Tracy asked me how I was doing with the waiting and all the uncertainty. 

My response has haunted me ever since…

“I feel so helpless and powerless having to wait, and I greatly fear what this could mean for Jud long-term, but at least I will have my boy!  I don’t think this is threatening his life.  At least I will have my boy!”

I recall saying those words to her and thinking to myself, “What could be worse than cancer?  If Jud doesn’t have a brain tumor, then surely his life is not in jeopardy!  But what if I am wrong?  Are there other diseases that can kill him?  Not likely.  At least I will have my boy!”

As I discussed my feelings with Tracy, I remember consciously trying to find the positive side in the midst of being petrified that Jud was going to be disabled for the rest of his life.

This is one of those moments when hindsight feels torturous. 

I no longer have my boy.  I thought I would still have my boy.  I no longer have my boy!

Oh, how it hurts!