My first thought was, 'no, this can't be, this is what happens to other people'. Then I learned to spell Leukaemia and discovered there are never enough tissues for times like this. Then I discovered a new calm, a new strength, fought back sorrow and tried to work out the 'new normal' for our lives.

The new normal means 'sleeping' in skinny fold out bed next to my son, with regular interruptions of obs, medicines, blood tests, beeping machines, and the cries of the baby next door. The new normal means trying to have dinner as a family with no table, a chatty needy five year old and a grizzly Ned who won't eat, while trying to catch up on the day with Emily. The new normal means trying to continue the rest of life while spending most of it in hospital.

But this new normal, this new chapter in our lives has made me realise a few things. We really are incredibly blessed. The willingness of so many to help in so many ways is incredible. The hundreds of messages, calls and emails of support have been encouraging and comforting. And we live in a country that provides excellent health care and provision for situations like this.

So while this 'new normal' will be hard, especially as Ned's little body adjusts to the drugs in the days, weeks and months ahead, I know that we are loved, we are cared for and we are prayed for.

Seth

Edward Isham