Please Pray for Kate Mcrae

This is the same little girl I have blogged about before.  Last June her family was given the devistating news that their 4 year old daughter was diagnosed with brain cancer.  They have traveled to the best hospitals in the nation, been through chemo after chemo treatment, and there were just told last month that their sweet Kate has cancer yet again.  Please join me in praying for Kate.  Here is a glimspe of her mother's blog for Kate.  You can go to the website and read more at http://www.prayforkate.com/

Sunday, March 6, 2011 8:52 PM, MST

I remember clearly one of the emotions I felt so strongly when we first found the original tumor was downright panic. It was like a steel vice gripped my heart, and panic flooded every part of my body upon hearing the words "very large brain tumor". And in an instant I knew life as we knew it was forever changed. A dense cloud of shock seemed to settle in as we vacillated between panic and unbelief. We wanted so desperately to grasp for the days before, to somehow go back, and yet we knew there was nowhere to go but forward. Forward and into the unknown, filled with prognoses, procedures, pain, doubts and daily battles against fear. Not the future we had hoped or envisioned for our beautiful 5 1/2 year old daughter, nor ourselves.

Selfishly, I had always desired a stable life. Simple, with my kids and husband, stationary in one location, enjoying God's goodness and raising my kids in hopes they would follow and love Him. Little did I know that part of their loving Him, would come at great cost to my idea of stability. We have moved our fair share since being married. And in a twist of irony, for the first time I felt like we were finally "settling" down we were a mere 3 weeks before Kate's diagnosis. We had purchased a home in Arizona, and we could envision planting roots. A new school was going up just blocks from us and finally, we could just maybe embark on the journey that included some stability that I so desperately desired. Little did we know we would be hearing the devastating news that Kate was battling a very rare and aggressive form of pediatric brain cancer of which my idea of stability would be nowhere in the equation.

And yet, all the while, God was in advance preparing us, for this tumultuous path.

Once again this past December, we were finally beginning to feel like we could resume some things we might have before Kate's diagnosis. We were beginning to taste life outside of the constant restraints that cancer can put on it. Kate was still in therapy, still battling to regain more movement on her right side since surgery, and yet she was thriving in school, tutoring, and therapy. It was still not the life anyone dreams about for their child. A life with new physical limitations, and yet we were so thankful for what God had preserved her from. She was left with some disability, and yet God had spared her from so much more.

And then, on February 1st, in an unsuspecting instant, it was back. And again, our lives forever changed by its presence. This time the prognosis, the nature of it, and the general treatments weren't a surprise. And the deep ache and pain in our souls, a familiar torment to our already weakened reserves. The first time around we were told we maybe had a 20-30% chance of seeing our daughter survive this. This time no such hopes spilled from the doctors mouths, leaving our family aching for the days before cancer like never before.

Since that MRI, we have cried, screamed and cried some more. Kate has cried, asked questions, and then has had the God given ability to continue living as before. She laughs, wants to play with her friends, never wants to skip her homework, and still doesn't want to eat her vegetables. Apart from the scan, no one would know a war was raging inside her young body, and inside her parents hearts. So we again vacillate between disbelief, and the knowledge of what we have been told.

It is an overwhelmingly difficult place to be when your child looks completely well, and yet she is fighting a devastating disease, of which there is no "right" answer in terms of treatment. And yet, we have peace proceeding with the treatment we have chosen. Do not misunderstand my words. There is angst every single day, knowing the cost this treatment choice could come at. It is painful knowing the attempts to save her life could also cause her harm. I wrestle with it almost every single night. They are never easy or painless decisions, those that are made in regards to our childrens lives. And so with the decision made, we must move forward. We will be trying to add some conjunctive therapies alongside the radiation.

The treatments will actually begin on Wednesday, with a practice round on Tuesday. She will then undergo radiation for 6 weeks. She will not have any MRI"s for those six weeks, unless symptoms would warrant, leaving me, well, nervous to say the least.

There are so many specific prayer requests for Kate. And yet, again I can't bare to write them down tonight. At times the specifics just feel too hard to write.

As far as Kate goes, she is feeling great, and continues to be full of life. Without knowing what she was fighting, most would never guess. Another blessing, is that she continues to be very strong and confident emotionally. We talk about heaven like most talk about the weather. This isn't because we believe she will soon be there. Rather, it is one of the very few things that comforts our aching souls. The knowledge and truth about heaven.

So we ask you to pray. We continue to ask fervently for her healing. From head to toe.

-Holly Mcrae