STT. New Test Results Reveal Disease Progression in Will, Forcing Difficult Conversations at Home
The hospital corridor was eerily silent, as if even the sounds were holding their breath.
The fluorescent lights above flickered slightly, casting a faint light onto the floor, where time seemed to stretch and distort.
Will was in another MRI machine, a machine he hated to the core, even though his body was completely exhausted.
The narrow tunnel, the clanging of machinery, the forced silence—it was a prison he had entered far too many times.
Outside, in the waiting room, his mother sat alone with a piece of paper as heavy as a stone.
The CT scan report from that morning lay in her trembling hands.
She has read it once.
But then it happened again.
And once again.
Each word inflicted more deep hurt than the previous one.
The progression of the disease.
The language of the profession is cold, precise, and uncompromising.
That means the chemotherapy trial has failed.
That means the drug they had placed so much hope in is now no longer effective.
The PET scan results also offered no reassurance.
Most of the symptoms of the disease remain unchanged.
But something new has emerged.
A new figure.
A spot on Will’s right thigh bone.
Suddenly, everything became clear.
Unbearable pain struck just before Christmas.
That night, he cried out in agony.
Time spent in the emergency room.
Now, the pain has an origin, and that origin has a name.
Cancer.
Again.
But even when the weight of the truth pressed heavily on her chest, she did not break down.
She took a deep breath.
She exhaled.
Because surrender was not an option they ever allowed themselves to have.
Not now.
Never.
Today, it’s just the two of them.
Jason wasn’t with them.
There is no separation between mother and son.
Only honesty matters.
Only love.
All it takes is courage.
She silently prayed that she would find the right words.
Those words wouldn’t shake Will’s resolve.
Those words could not extinguish the fire that still burned in his eyes.
The words are powerful enough to convey the truth without destroying hope.
She prayed for strength—not just for him, but for herself as well.
Because having to deliver bad news to their children is a burden no parent should have to bear.
Will was old enough to understand everything.
I’m too old to be sheltered by innocence.
They were too young to face death so directly.
When Jason wasn’t around, Will would always approach his mother with questions that would leave her pondering long after the conversation ended.
He wanted to talk about Heaven.
About death.
Regarding what will happen next.
He asked in a calm tone that was both heartbreaking and terrifying.
It was as if he had accepted a reality that no child should ever have to face.
She listened.
She replied.
She took his hand while her heart silently shattered in her chest.
She has already buried one of her children.
That pain has etched wounds into her soul, wounds that will never fully heal.
But this is different.
This is about walking alongside a surviving child through the valley of death.
It was about watching him suffer while knowing she couldn’t alleviate his pain.
The devil whispers lies in the darkness.
This war is pointless.
That hope is completely unrealistic.
Surrendering like that would be easier.
But they refused to listen.
They’ve never done that before.
They would never do that.
Faith does not mean the absence of fear.
Faith is the choice to stand firm despite all difficulties.
She contacted their oncologist at MD Anderson.
She told him to call immediately if they needed to come there.
No matter the time.
No matter the price.
They will come.
They will listen.
They will try anything that still offers an opportunity.
Because as long as there is breath, there is purpose.
As long as there is love, there is a reason to fight.
This diagnosis doesn’t mean the end.
That means it’s urgent.
It means intention.
That means living each day as if it has meaning—because it truly does have meaning.
They will love more intensely.
They will trust each other more deeply.
They will fight even harder.
Tears will fall, but they won’t drown in them.
Pain will come, but it will not define who they are.
Hope may waver, but it will never be shattered.
They will continue to move forward.
It’s not because the path is easy.
But giving up has never been in their nature.
