This has been the longest weekend of my life. Andrew and I usually like to complain about how fast the weekends fly by. Weekends are a really precious time for us; we like to have breakfast at our favorite place, The Wild Hive, or make pancakes for the boys. Then we just spend time together, the four of us, on the rail trail or exploring a new town, going to a festival, working in the garden, or swimming in the pool. I often say that there can never be enough weekends in our life like these. I love them so much, look forward to them, and never, ever get tired of these days with my family.
This weekend, though, was terrible because we are waiting to find out results, waiting to know when we can be seen at Sloan, waiting to know what our life will be now. Andrew is in some pain, very tired, and we just want to get going with some kind of treatment. I've been getting some great advice from old friends and new friends who have been close to this terrible disease. They tell me that this is often the hardest part -- just not knowing. And that soon we will know everything and can begin to fight. It's Sunday night and I'm so relieved. i just want this weekend to be over.
That picture of Jack...
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