717 Days Later

“Weeping may stay through the night, but joy will come in the morning.” Psalm 30:5

Today was an unusually beautiful day - sunny and 60 degrees. It was the sort of day that made it easy to love one another and be kind. It was also a Valentine’s Day our family will never forget.

From the second our family learned that Matt had leukemia, we began focusing on what we needed to do to get to the finish line. With every bone marrow biopsy, every drop of chemo, every doctor’s visit, every hospital stay and every dose of radiation, we celebrated being one step closer to the end.

While I am not fully convinced that the elusive finish line truly exists, for Matt - today was monumental. Hitting the two-year mark cancer free is a huge milestone. Not only does this mean the chances of his cancer returning are now much lower, it also means that he can stop taking his oral chemo regimen. Without those drugs in his system, the side effects that include fatigue, nausea and diarrhea - among other things - will hopefully be a thing of the past.

Imagine that! A day where Matt gets to feel like a normal, healthy 20-year old young man! In fact, Dr. Vellek says he expects Matt to feel much better even as soon as the weekend. I asked Matt how this new reality makes him feel. Here’s what he said:

“Here we are, 717 days later. This is finally the finish line I have been trudging toward all this time. I could easily say, “almost 2 years,” or “23 and a half months,” but that isn’t how I have lived in that time. I have lived day by day, taking each challenge and new struggle as it comes.

Seven hundred and seventeen days ago, I got locked in a cage and dropped to the bottom of the ocean. There, I saw the monsters that hide in the darkness. I felt immobilized, too weak to carry on amongst the immense pressure. At times, I forgot what it was to just breathe. Yet eventually I came up for air, and once the chemo infusions and radiation were done, I thought I was free.

I was not. Though I got back on solid ground, I was still locked in my cage of cancer meds, blood draws and doctor’s appointments. I was lucky to be able to see and experienced so much, from the other side of the Atlantic ocean and the coast of Wales, to the floor of the NFL draft, from witnessing a MVP at Arrowhead Stadium, to a gentle snowfall making Times Square a snow globe. Yet nonetheless I have not quite been free. My cage has kept me grounded, unable to fly like I only dream I could.

But today I step out of that cage.”

So today, we celebrate freedom. We celebrate all the love that we’ve felt during the past two years and we thank God for His steadfast, unchanging love, knowing this is what truly sets us all free.