We met with Lynden’s oncologist for the first time on July 11. Part of me expected to have her to tell us it was all a big misunderstanding, but that was not the case. I actually asked her if they were certain that’s what it was because I still couldn’t wrap my brain around all of this. She said Oh Yes, that’s definitely what it is. She said we would need to do some testing to find out the staging and come up with a treatment plan. The next week and a half was filled with blood work, X-rays, ct scans, PET scans, and bone marrow biopsy and spinal tap. While other kids enjoyed summer, Lynden sat in hospital waiting rooms for hours and getting poked with needles over and over again. After getting all of the tests and pathology/radiology reports back (I believe that’s what they are called- still learning) Dan and I went back in to meet with the oncology team. I thought I had mentally prepared myself for the worst, not the absolute worst cuz I couldn’t allow my brain to go THERE, but as bad as I thought it could be and apparently I didn’t. We were informed that she she did in fact have ALCL but it systemic, meaning it had moved (or started) other places in her body. They found two tumors in her upper chest near her lungs. So her full diagnosis was stage 3 ALK+ ALCL (Anaplastic Large Cell Lymphoma). (It was not stage 4 because it has not yet entered her bones or central nervous system) I could hardly breathe. I didn’t cry. It all sounded so formal and matter of fact and most of it I didn’t even understand.  There were no emotions, except shock, until Dan asked if she would lose her hair. Yes. She would lose her hair. Just over a year ago, Lynden cut off 12 inches of her hair and donated it to children who had lost their hair with cancer. And now she would be that child. The one without hair, needing someone else’s hair. How did these tables turn? We were the givers not the receivers. Then she went over the treatment plan. It was an aggressive chemotherapy that she would need to be inpatient for each cycle. The treatment would consist of 6, 5 day cycles with about 2-3 weeks in between each cycle. There would also be a “prophase” where she would admitted into the hospital, the very next morning and go into surgery to have a PICC line placed and chemo injected into her spinal cord to help keep the cancer from going into her bones or central nervous system. Then she would admired aver night to the pediatric into to start receiving her first dose of Chemo. She handled it like a champ. She was so brave, which helped me so much. I wouldn’t have been able to bear it if she was crying or upset. We are home now and she has to take some steroids over the next 3 days and then we go back in on Tuesday for her first cycle. I will continue to keep this posted as often as i can. Thank you all for being so loving and supportive as we have been entering this new chapter of our lives. We are so blessed to be surrounded by an army of people who have served us, prayed for us and are willing to do whatever they can to keep her (and our) spirits up as we fight this battle. I have felt over and over again the spirit tell me that everything will be okay in the end but it’s not going to be an easy road. I take comfort in that. I can handle hard, we can do hard. But we HAVE to come out victorious in the end. We WILL!