Showing posts with label Holly and Aaron Mcrae. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holly and Aaron Mcrae. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

update on kate mcrae, via caringbridge

Surgery postponed

Brain surgery has been rescheduled for Wednesday morning at 7:30 am, due to a more emergent case.

We will try to update more details tomorrow. For tonight we are just tired and incredibly heavy hearted. Grateful for the prayers.


Photo By Holly McRae Jun 28, 2013 -- Kate showing *attitude*!

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

"...today was so sweet"

Thank goodness the rules of journalistic integrity and basic good writing don't apply to me.  For those of you too doggone lazy to click your way over to Holly McRae's Caring Bridge site, dedicated to her daughter Kate and the journey through the world of pediatric brain cancer... Well, allow me to pilfer Holly's latest journal entry in its entirety. without failing to steal even a single syllable as she shares Kate's latest MRI results:



I find myself at a loss for words and overwhelmed with quiet emotion. We met with Kate's oncologist to review the MRI today and received the incredible news that the MRI looked the same as the last one! There are no new tumors, and the two recurrent, metastatic ones are not visible on the scan anymore and there has been no change in the original tumor bed. All very good news!

It was the first time we even talked much about where we go from here at an appointment. We did decide we are going to continue on the same treatment for now, and continue with 2 month scans. And somehow that sounds wonderful. 
Very rarely have we looked at Kate's brain scans and smiled. Oftentimes we have viewed them through the cloud of tears. Not today. On the images you can see the surgical area, and the changes that have inevitably taken place in her brain. But the fact that the original tumor area has not changed most definitely evoked a huge smile. And of course we asked, "do you believe that the remnant in that area could still be cancer, or rather changes to her brain?". He replied we haven't proved it isn't cancer, but we haven't proved it is either. However, he would lean more heavily toward it being scar tissue, as opposed to cancer. Of course what we wanted to hear. 
So I inevitably know people will wonder what this all means, for now and for the long term. First, it means we are incredibly grateful for more time with our sweet girl. And we are thanking Jesus for that sweet gift. It also means the radiation had a profound effect on the metastatic cancer lesions. And there is the possibility that the area of change they noted last February in the original tumor area is simply changes to the brain from treatment. Here is the hard part. We have still only heard a 5% survival. Talk about hard to digest! However, we didn't even go there today. We did talk briefly about possible other treatments in the future, if need be. And the reality that if these stable scans continue at some point we will need to stop her current treatment. Most attempt to stay on it one year. Some have gone longer. No one knows how long kids can stay on it. So we will cross that bridge when we get there. But that will be a great crossroads to get to.
For tonight, we celebrate one more step. One more sweet victory. This is the fourth consecutive scan with no change in the original tumor, and the disappearance of the 2 new tumors since the full brain radiation. For tonight we will leave thoughts of the future alone and celebrate the sweet grace we have been given today. Thank you for persisting in prayer with us. We have a long road still ahead. And yet today was so sweet.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Kate's MRI [with update]

Holly McRae's daughter Kate has an MRI scheduled for Tuesday.  Tomorrow.

Kate has what her mother once described as a "very malignant, aggressive brain tumor called a supratentorial primitive neuroectodermal tumor or sPNET."   She's undergone every treatment available.  Her parents and doctors have culled through protocols, and they know they are navigating uncharted waters now that there are new tumor spots.

Still, first grade is just around the corner, and life goes on adding sweet to the bitter.

Theirs is a Christ-centered home and family -- Holly's husband, Aaron, is a pastor and she is clearly faith-driven.  They believe that God can and will cure their daughter.

Every MRI has become critically important, sometimes for all that the scan does not show as much as for what it illuminates.  Holly and Aaron have always been wonderfully explicit in their requests for prayers -- a characteristic of real believers.  (I've been advised many times that God can handle my own pitiful minutiae --from disintegrating thumbnails to an overflowing appreciation for the awesome GirlPower of the FIFA World Cup finalists...)

I've learned that God is tapping me on the shoulder every time one of these real believer types stands in my path and refuses to get out of the way.  (They're incorrigible.)  I would translate that annoying tap::tap::tap into words but this is a G-rated blog, so just imagine God mildly cursing.  I don't mean plagues in Old Testament Egypt or Eve's subjugation, although I suspect that while God has authored a good many such curses, there is no intent to stifle the human response to fight, argue, and revolt.  Indeed, sometimes the divine hand fans those flames. 

Oh, hush.  Yes, I had another "D'oh" moment and didn't delete it. 

Here is the beginning of Holly McRae's latest journal entry over at Caring Bridge.  If you are new to Kate's story, you'll find the two years of journaling insightful, challenging, and -- definitely -- inspiring.  You will pray for Kate, her parents, her brother Will and her sister Olivia;  You will come to care, and very much.

In the post prior to this one, Holly wrote:
We have many prayer requests. Many. So tonight I will name a few pressing ones.
~that the original tumor area on the MRI will show NO change (this is hugely important)
~that the two new tumors would be gone on the upcoming MRI
~that Kate's abdominal pain would subside as she has been barely eating
~that her energy would increase in the next few weeks, so she would be able to start first grade
~that God would miraculously touch Kate's body, eradicate the cancer, heal the damaged areas of her brain, protect her vital structures that are at risk and preserve her vivacious spirit.

Whether you are a seasoned Prayer Warrior, or, like me, a clueless recruit in Intercessionary Boot Camp, that should keep you busy.

MRI on Tuesday....


We always tend to get reflective right before a major MRI. I clean and do my usual organizing. I wonder if it comes from the fact that the day Kate was initially diagnosed I left things in chaos at home. Bowls of cereal half eaten, laundry everywhere, we just dropped everything to go for the CT scan. I didn't step foot in our house again for almost 2 months. Now I always feel the impending desire to have everything in order, just in case we wouldn't come home. I truly don't believe that will be the case, but wonder if experience has dictated these new instincts in me.



The other day we were driving somewhere, it was probably 130 degrees out (slight exaggeration, but only slight) and the kids were giggling about something in the back. I quietly asked Aaron if he could imagine life without the impending thoughts of cancer, without the constant thought if Kate would be with us the following year, without death being a very real and talked about topic. Some are healthy changes. Healthy changes amidst a very gruesome disease. And yet we are still mourning other life changes. Bittersweet. Only occasionally do I let myself even wonder what life would have been like. What sweet Kate's life would be like had cancer never come knocking. I can't let myself stay there. It did happen, and life is different. It will always be different now. I just pray different will become sweeter over the days ahead. Less of the bitter, more of the sweet.


Kate's hair is starting to grow back some. It's interesting so far. Darker in spots. Thicker in others. We still can't tell if it will all come back yet. I get nervous for her some days. The thought of potentially having some permanent hair loss at the tender age of 7. It would be just one more battle to face. I love however that Kate rarely cares, of course she is sure her hair will come back at some point. And of course there is the occasional day that someone stares too long, or turns around to take a second glance, causing her to rethink letting others see beneath her hat. And then of course the fierce mother instinct comes out and my eyes say a million words to them that my mouth cannot. And yet, the other day she offhandedly said she wants to work on being more brave. Where she can take off her hat more readily in public around people she doesn't know. And I tell her she is incredibly brave already. She is forgiving of peoples unashamed stares and rarely complains about not having hair, when most are never thankful for the simple fact that they do have hair. I love that she has a new found confidence in the face of a physically altering illness. That speaks volumes. She is crazy beautiful anyways. [READ THE REST HERE]
That's for sure.




TUESDAY UPDATE:  Holly writes (and Aaron tweets) --
"We have very few details at this time but simply heard there has been 'no change' since last scan! Everything is stable! We praise God for this and are incredibly thankful for every single prayer offered on Kate's behalf."



Saturday, June 4, 2011

Righten the odds

I thought nothing could get to me.  

Oh, it's okay, Dear Reader, my "jumping off" remains a trustworthy fact. But something did almost scare me to the point where I considered failure a decent enough option.

Shame stopped me, and stilled me, and brought me back to reason -- if, indeed, reason embraces notions such as God, and God's grace.

If, indeed, reason covers Kate.

I'm putting my newfound sobriety (oh, shut up) on the line and saying, "yes, reason covers not just a multitude of your miserable ass sins, reason also covers the unsullied, the babies, the loving mothers, the faithful fathers... yes, reason covers radiation and chemo therapies, covers the good doctors, nurses, aides, and techs... yes, reason covers daughter sisters and son brothers... and most definitely, reason covers kate.

I checked my email for the first time today (instead of the addicted hourly regimen followed by my Former Junkie Self) -- at 19:00. At roughly 19:00:23, I thought of my own failure, and how much of a likelihood it would become were the message I was about to read a very difficult one.  All I knew at that point was that it had been just over a week since Holly McRae had posted an update to her journal about Kate's journey on CaringBridge.  It was my catastrophic bent at that second to think the very worst.

I beg Holly's pardon as the necessary shift to it's-not-all-about-me takes hold. 

This is the entirety of what she posted (forgive me for that, as well) and if you've never met Kate through her mother's words before, consider a trip over to the CaringBridge to read all of her journaling.  It will move and inspire you.  It can almost make a believer out of anyone, just to righten the odds.

I continue to find it harder and harder to update. Not for lack of things happening, and most definitely not for lack of emotion, simply for the lack of words. No words seem adequate for what our hearts feel, on the good days and on the awful days. It is a constant daily battle to reign in our thoughts and fears concerning Kate. Being that I am the one who engages more of the medical side of Kate's diagnosis and reads more of the literature concerning it, I tend to struggle with it more heavily.


Kate is doing well. Of course everything is relative, and that being quite relative to her diagnosis. We are grateful the last chemo did not cause more symptoms or side effects in Kate than it did. She is easily fatigued, which is probably more related to the radiation, and continues with stomach pains here and there. Her appetite is unpredictable, so again we are having to be less strict with what she eats, simply to get her to eat some days. I have noticed that she also seems slightly less engaged with others outside of our home. I am not sure as to the reason, and have stopped guessing. I simply cherish the moments we see her full throttle at home.




Kate was horribly disappointed to learn that she would be getting chemo again this week. I guess she had forgotten. We had not! It has been a delicate dance learning to be grateful we have something to fight with, while at the same time despising those very treatments. She will have her bloodwork drawn on Tuesday to see what effect the chemo had on her blood counts and then proceed with the infusion of her biweekly chemo. I am sure we will also discuss a starting date for the Avastin, and begin scheduling her next MRI. We are obviously no longer on the every 3 month plan for scans. I was actually hoping for monthly MRI's and have realized that 2 months for now is probably best. It is a very delicate balance not scanning too early, and yet not allowing too much time to pass if cancer is growing unnoticed. If we scan before we allow time for the chemo to have an effect, there is the possibility we could see growth and take her off of one of the few medications that may work. The reason for not desiring to scan too infrequently is obvious. So our thought is her next MRI will most likely be early to mid July.




This month marks the 2 year anniversary of Kate's diagnosis. God has been working ferociously on my heart the past few months concerning just that. The disappointment and at times anger for that which she is faced. How we had hoped and prayed that at 2 years we would find our sweet girl cancer free, that we would be celebrating God's faithfulness and His mercy in allowing Kate freedom from the clutches of this disease. Rather we find ourselves battling 2 new tumors and facing the uncertainty of an aggressive and unforgiving disease that almost always ends in death. We find ourselves facing the ramifications of having had to aggressively radiate her entire brain and spine in hopes of sparing her life. We find ourselves craving the days past where getting the tangles out of her curly blonde hair was the most frustrating part of the morning. Now we wonder if her hair will ever come back.


And yet, despite our raging disappointments, God continues to be faithful. And He most definitely continues to be able to heal her. As much as my heart yearns to see her walk again without a brace and to see her right hand paint so beautifully as it once did, I am reminded she also faced a day she could not move her right side at all. A day when thoughts plagued us if we would ever see her move outside her wheelchair. If we would ever hear her sweet voice utter our names again, or tell us she loved us. So we celebrate the blessings mixed in with the current pains. We continue to fight for her life, and for her quality of life. And in the same breathe realize this life is not our ultimate home. Never have I been more grateful for that.




Tomorrow we celebrate a very sweet day in our daughters lives. Aaron will be baptizing both Kate and Olivia. So tomorrow we celebrate those things God has done in our daughters lives. And the rest of the week we continue the treatments hoping and praying Kate will have a lifetime to share those things with others. Thanks for being persistent in prayer for Kate's healing.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Holly McRae: Update from Hawaii


Holly McRae updated her journal over at CaringBridge today with a profoundly moving entry on her daughter Kate, their "sweet girl." The whole family has been on vacation in Hawaii, swimming with dolphins, relaxing -- but never really escaping the reality of pediatric brain cancer.  They are headed home in a few days and back to tests, procedures, and treatments.

Holly is an amazing writer and a more amazing parent, mother.  Today, she seemed to feel it necessary to defend herself for being honest -- even when her honesty is so infused with integrity and faith that my spirit is inspired, no matter how sad the news. 

I know her statements today must reflect some unkindness that she has encountered, perhaps someone's refusal to meet her where she happens to be, or -- worse -- someone's judgment of how she and Aaron have painstakingly chosen to proceed.  And that makes me really sad... but mostly angry.  (As much as Holly inpires me, I clearly have a long way to go...)


Link to Kate's CaringBridge Page

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Pray and Fast for Kate on Monday, February 7

Kate Mcrae's PET scan is scheduled for Tuesday, February 8.  This brave seven-year-old has a rare and aggressive form of brain cancer that has returned despite surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation.

In her journal on CaringBridge, Kate's mom Holly has shared how hard this time is, how many decisions need to be made, and how they continue to pray for a miracle.
We have been contacting various healthcare specialists around the country researching potential options, as Kate's healthcare team does the same. If things would proceed in an undesirable direction, we will need to be making rather informed, but quick decisions. We continue to cry out for healing for our baby. It would be nothing short of miraculous for the PET scan to come back not indicating cancer. We are boldly praying for that.

Kate's father Aaron has asked for those who are willing and able to join them tomorrow in a day of prayer and fasting.  As always, this faithful couple has imbued their prayer with specifics, something that has always delighted me and been a real help when storming heaven on behalf of Kate.  I'm pretty sure God finds my efforts much improved when the Mcrae's needs keep them focussed and appropriate.  Aaron writes --
Here are a few requests for those who will partner with us:


For Healing… for Kate’s complete healing from top of her head to her toes
Psalm 107: 19 Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress. 20 He sent forth his word and healed them; he rescued them from the grave.


For Wisdom… for Holly and I, for the doctors, and people we consult with
Colossians 1:9 For this reason, since the day we heard about you, we have not stopped praying for you and asking God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all spiritual wisdom and understanding.


For Jesus to be Glorified… for Christ to be seen as POWERFUL & to be praised
John 11:4 Jesus said, ‘This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory, so that, God’s Son may be glorified through it.’
Again, I want to thank the countless people who have prayed and encouraged us for some time. We would be honored if some of you could join us in this day of seeking God in prayer and fasting. Please pass this along and ask others. If you need some guidance in fasting, I have found this site to be helpful:  Awake21 particularly the ‘Prayer, Fasting, and Personal Devotion Guide.’

I really appreciate Aaron and Holly continuing to minister in the middle of their pain and hurry -- I appreciate them telling us exactly what we can do, providing resources, providing scriptural references. I am not exactly fertile ground for much of this, but I always hope for a time when sarcasm and an ironic world view will ease. Until then, I'll just do the best I can. If you, too, are uncomfortable and inexperienced with prayer and fasting born from beliefs so fierce and necessarily literal, join me tomorrow and let's try to shed our smart-assed ways.

Being dumb before God can't be anything too new.

All we gotta do is remember Holly and Aaron, and their children Olivia, Will, and most especially, Kate.

Will, Aaron, Holly, Kate, Olivia

From The TomKat Studio