Bingaman's Battle

"I cannot imagine". That's what I always said to myself when I heard about a tragedy to which I could not possibly relate. Then our beautiful 2 year old baby boy was diagnosed with brain cancer, Medulloblastoma. Even typing that doesn't feel real. Things like this seem to always happen to other people and I pray for them and try to imagine what that must be like. I never knew how completely indescribable this path truly is. It all started when Elijah began having morning nausea with vomiting several times a week. Doctors treated this as a tummy issue but it persisted. He went on several medications and we were continually assured that it was probably nothing serious even though, as parents, we were scared to death. After a couple of months his vomiting resolved and he seemed like himself again. He was laughing, playing, being the best big brother to his 2 month old baby sister Everly, telling funny jokes and randomly blurting out "Mommy (or Daddy)...I love you!" Then seemingly out of nowhere he began to have balance issues that worsened over about a 10 day period. He would stumble when walking, couldn't play the same, and was no longer dancing to Michael Jackson in the living room. We insisted on a neurology consult and scheduled an MRI. I took off from work the day of the MRI (just in case the news was bad) and when the phone rang soon after getting home from the test, I feared the worst. "Elijah has a large tumor in his brain". Those words still make my stomach turn. Our nightmare was beginning, only we couldn't wake up. We rushed to the hospital and Elijah had brain surgery to remove the tumor the next morning. As we were being educated on the long road ahead to treat the cancer we became aware of another horrifying issue. A small percentage of kiddos who have a tumor removed from the back of the brain like Elijah develop what is called posterior fossa syndrome. It has nothing to do with the cancer and its cause is unknown. Our baby came out of surgery unable to talk, swallow, move his limbs or even open his eyes. He will require months, maybe longer, of intensive rehab to regain as much of these abilities as possible Two and a half weeks after removal of his tumor, thanks to his amazing surgeons, nurses and therapists, Elijah can eat pureed foods, move his arms and legs a bit, look around the room, and his heart warming laugh has returned. He cannot yet sit up by himself, hold his head up for long, or speak and the road ahead is long and uphill. His cancer treatment plan is not quite spelled out at this time, however, it will at least require months of chemotherapy. We are blessed to have the support of family, friends and our church and we believe in the power of prayer and that God can heal Elijah. God can do this in a moment but he often uses people to accomplish His plan. Aside from the financial burden of mounting medical bills there is the loss of income and many other unforeseen expenses. I made this page at the suggestion of dear friends as an outlet to anyone who wants to help but is not sure how. We appreciate all the love, support and prayers it may bring.