A number of weeks ago, Aidan (14) and I were together eating at the table in the breakfast nook. The conversation turned to lung cancer because that happens around here these days. And I was describing to Aidan advanced lung cancer and how, because there are no nerves inside the lungs to feel pain, it often goes undetected until it’s late stage. I said to him, “Aidan, can you imagine how helpful it would have been if I’d had bronchitis or something a year earlier, so I would have needed a chest X-ray. Then we could have caught this earlier.” Without a moment’s hesitation, he said, “It wouldn’t make a difference. Either way, the result would be the same: Success.” I was stunned by his laser focus and total confidence.

Aidan and all my kids know what’s going on here. They have been looped in on everything, every step of the way. They know about the chemotherapy treatments, the Tagrisso, and what medical science is doing. They know about the diet changes and the nutrition program. They know we are praying daily and that there are lots of other people praying, having good thoughts, and sending positive energy to me from around the world. And my kids believe that it’s all going to work.

Their trust made me compare them to the children of an escape artist, watching their dad try to execute an escape from a life-threatening situation. They are spectators with very little influence over what’s taking place before them. They calmly watch the equivalent of the chains going on, the locks being put in place, the patient being put in the locked trunk, and the trunk being tossed in the water. And they think something like “I sure hope dad knows what he’s doing.” Their trust, confidence, and calm throughout this process have been admirable.

It turns out Houdini didn’t have kids. I looked it up on Wikipedia because I was curious. But if he did have kids, he couldn’t possibly have been prouder of how they processed dad’s predicament than I am of Emma, Ian, Connor, and Aidan.