"Some fresh, clear, well seasoned perspective...

...Can you suggest a good wine to go with that?" (Ten points if you can name that movie!)

We met someone today who gave us some good perspective. We were sitting in the Infusion Suite where Elena gets her chemo, waiting for the push to finish. It's a large, open room- the walls lined with green "squishy chairs" (as Elena calls them). About halfway through Elena's last chemo push, a lady and her two young kids came back and sat in the chairs across from us. She struck up a conversation with me and we exchanged information about our children's diagnosis, progress, treatment, etc. She told me that her daughter has Neuroblastoma, which is basically a "spider tumor" (rather than just one clump of cells it branches out like a spider) that starts in the adrenal gland and then eventually progresses into the chest cavity and up to the brain, if it isn't stopped. After we chatted for a few minutes, she asked how Elena was doing and I told her that she is doing well at the moment - technically in remission and responding well to the treatments.

"That is so great!" she responded.

"How about your daughter?" I asked.

"Oh, she's not N.E.D. Not clear at all."

"How long have you guys been at it?" I asked.

"A little over two years."

"Wow! We're only four months into the process," I said. "And how much longer do you guys have to go?" (Me thinking that they must be almost done.)

"We have no idea."

She went on to tell me that her her daughter hadn't responded to the normal "protocol" treatments for Neuroblastoma. They had finished all of those with no response and then were sent to an even more specialized clinic in New York. Her sons stay with her husband and she and her daughter go to New York for treatments for 2 1/2 months at a time and then come home for ten days. Then they repeat.

2 1/2 months! In a strange city across the country, away from the rest of their family. Home for ten days! (And by home, she means going to Primary's still for treatments.)

"It's really hard-really frustrating," she said. "We can't live a normal life - I can't hold a job, I can't hardly be a mom. It's just really hard."

Yeah...

On top of that, the treatments that they are now doing on her daughter are all experimental (since none of the "protocol" treatments worked). It's the only option left. She told me how scared that made her. How she didn't know if she was going to be able to keep her daughter with her. How she wishes her daughter only had ALL or AML or something.

What she said near the end of our conversation really struck me:

"4 months of treatment and your daughter is in remission! Man, you guys are so lucky."

As we were driving home from the hospital and talking about it, Eric and I were once again humbled as we were reminded how blessed we are - there are so many who would feel grateful to be in our situation. How many parents do we pass at the hospital who are praying to just be in a situation like ours, rather than the many worse alternatives? It's all about perspective, isn't it?