Sophie's sitter told me yesterday that her husband has a brain tumor that has to be removed. If it's not, he will definately go blind. They aren't sure yet if it's cancer, but regardless, it has to come out. She can't be any older than 30, and her husband can't be much more than 35. How is this my 2nd run-in with a brain tumor on a young-ish male?
Apparently, they've known about the tumor for a while, but only recently has the doctor been very firm that it needs to be removed. His surgery is July 16, which means that Sophie's last day at her in-home daycare will be July 13.
Stacey (the sitter) said that she received the call about the surgery yesterday, while she was holding Sophie. Besides the obvious feelings brought on by the call, she said her next feeling was sadness that she wouldn't be able to care for Sophie anymore. The actual recovery will take a few weeks, but then once he comes home they absolutely cannot risk germs in the house, so she's shutting down her business.
I just feel so sad for Sophie. First her Nana, and now Stacey, who she ADORES. I just wish I knew how easily (or not) she can process something like this. She's a cautious little girl, very much an observer before she dives into something. It took her awhile to get comfortable at Stacey's, and become friends with the other kids. At least we can plan the "good-bye" and it's not like we have to be strangers. I fully intend on helping out Stacey's family with some meals, or house-cleaning, or something.