After the storm

3/15/09 Report from Colorado- From a parent's perspective, it is hard to imagine chugging down the road of life, minding one's P s and Q s and all of a sudden a buzz bomb drops out of the sky and lands squarely in one's ear with the news your beloved child has been hit by cancer. You are 2000+ miles away and emergency surgery is the next day. YOW.  That was back what seems an eon ago. And now, it is really over. A rush of highs, lows, adrenalin, depression, elation, good news and bad news. I found myself bringing my boy home like a father bringing home a young, wounded soldier. I felt proud, tired, enervated and continuing to be his support system.  It is seemingly amazing how a parent can rise to the occasion, using instinct, using force, using whatever is there.  Amy and I arrived in Hanover when the bad news broke and we had practically no resources there to turn to, no idea what to do or expect. We had to start with ground zero and build a skyscraper, one that would save our child's life and hopefully allow him to be functioning as a normal human. We did not meet with 100% success in getting what we needed to make the boat row, but we pushed through it and it worked. There were some wonderful people from the area who stepped forward and helped us immensely including my friend Bob in Albuquerque who got us an affordable place to stay for a while. But, we worked as a team with the steady accompaniment of Teresa and Ben's Dartmouth colleagues. Looking back, it is amazing the mountain we climbed in a short time. Ben, Amy and I had some terrifically difficult decisions to make, and I think there was amazing accord on what to do. My wife, Karyn, who is a cancer survivor gave invaluable input when we had to make treatment decisions.  It all seemed to slooooowwwwly come together , into focus, into the right thing to do for our wonderful Ben. 

Now, Ben is in Colorado, place of his roots and he is healing, which is much needed. His lead doctor openly told us to expect that Ben will need some 4 weeks more to get back to normalcy. 

They beat him up pretty good. As for me, I feel like it has not all really hit me yet. I can let down my guard, put away the over 12,000 miles I traveled, and take stock and look to the future. 

As a cancer patient once told me: Life is fragile. So, enjoy yours, appreciate the good things you have, don't postpone or hold back what you can do today and live on.  Submitted this 15th day of March, 2009 by Harry Grass.