I am about to take Thomas down to the hospital for the night. His treatment begins in the morning. We spent most of the day at the hospital getting details concerning what's to be done and what to expect. None of this was really news to us at this point, but hearing it all again - and all at once this time instead of in dribs and drabs - weighed pretty heavy on me. And I still feel the weight of it this evening. I know he has to go through all of this to get better, and we have every reason to believe he will be fully cured when all is said and done, but I still feel sick to my stomach.

One of the things that really hit me hard today was when the doctor told us that if this wasn't treated, Thomas would not be with us a year or so from now. Obviously, it's good that he is getting treated and will still be with us, if it be God's will, a year and more from now, but hearing those words... I don't know. I guess it just forced me to picture, for a brief moment, a world in which I did not have my special little boy. And that thought is unbearable. And that's all I can write tonight.

Keep praying, dear friends, and especially for continued strength and courage for Thomas, who is somewhat scared this evening, not knowing what exactly to expect these next couple of days.

Our most humble thanks to you all,

Allan.