Monday, Monday…

… what a day!

(Next week, I’ll give you the run-down on what the next 3 months–yes, you read that right 3 months–look like with scans and follow-up. My body is actually shutting down even more the past couple days, so I am sleeping a lot and finding little to no strength. That should gradually start to improve. In the meantime, here’s a glimpse of our Monday. Believe me, I’ll never complain about Mondays again.)

We arrived at the hospital on time for my scan only to find they had pushed it back an hour because they were running late, so I went to the cafeteria with Bri and watched him eat. Can we just say all together, “Torture.” I had been allowed a light breakfast, but nothing more until after the scan. He was very gracious and got a salad with his meatball sub rather than fries. At least, he thought that was being gracious. I just wonder how eating a meatball sub in front of a starving Italian is gracious? (In all fairness, I told him to get the meatball sub. I am just that loving of a wife.)

Bri wasn’t able to go back into the scan area with me, so I spent the next hour lying on a freezing cold table unable to move. And y’all, I mean unable to move. They actually strap your legs and arms to the table, your feet together and your hands to your sides so you can’t move. And the machine lowers to about 1/2 inch from your face. With all my maladies, I am so thankful I don’t have claustrophobia!

After the scan, they told me that because of my dangerously low thyroid levels (their words, not mine–can we just all say together, “Freak out!”), the doctor would want to see me, so just sit tight. That was the point at which I became hopeful that we might get results on the same day. Within 5 minutes the doctor was in the room to share the news that not only was the scan clear, there was not one speck of radioactive material in my body. Usually they see a few little tiny areas floating around. Not one speck.

She smiled at me and said, “So, run out to the waiting room, grab your husband and go eat whatever you want to eat and celebrate!” She gave me a few more instructions because I will suffer from nausea for the next couple weeks because of the radioactive iodine they gave me, and she gave me strict orders on getting my thyroid levels back up. Then she waved me on my way, “Now, go find your husband.”

I weaved my way through the labyrinth of hallways to the exit, and as I turned the corner, the door to the waiting room was open. I could see him sitting there, head bowed, and I thought two things. First, I thought, “Dang, I love how he looks in that coat!” Then I thought, “This is a movie moment. I can truly run through these halls and scream our wonderful news, meeting him there to celebrate.”

I wish I could tell you I did.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I snuck up next to him and stood. He saw my feet and looked up, hope in his eyes.

I grinned.

“Can we go get a Sonic burger?” I whispered.

And he knew what that meant.

And he sprung to his feet.

And we stood in the waiting room and hugged while I cried.

Then I think, but I’m not certain, that I floated the whole way to the Jeep.

Phone calls to family and dear friends. Tears on a snowy Jeep ride home. Sonic burger that never tasted so good.

Then I came home to my little loves, and Ash bounced up and down, “Was it clear? Was it clear? Was it clear?”

We sat on the floor all five of us and pulled each other close. “Your mommy,” I whispered, “had a clear scan today.” Asher went crazy. Screaming and hugging me. The other two didn’t quite know what that meant. So I finished. “Mommy doesn’t have any more cancer.” And Micah got it and screamed and hugged me, then he sat up, scrunched up his nose and said, “But do you have to still eat your special food?” “Nope.” I told him.

Then Bella piped up, “And can I be near you and with you and hug you whenever I want?”

I grabbed that mass of curly-red delight and held her tight, “All day long if you want.”

“Oh!” she clapped and hugged, “I do want, Mommy, I do want!”

Me, too.


Me, too.

And that is pretty much all I’ve done to celebrate.

And it’s been a wonderful celebration!

9 responses to “Monday, Monday…”

  1. YES!!! This is my favorite post ever except for the part where you’re in the machine. What a great celebration. I am so so happy for you all.


  2. Avatar

    My dear Angie,

    I shared in your tears of joy. What a beautiful work of God’s grace. Your husband has shared in this glorious moment, not missing a beat of trusting Him. May God’s grace fill him to the uttermost. We are all blessed at this news. Let those who love salvation say “let HIm be magnified.”

    Give my babies hugs and kisses for me. Tell them I love them.

    Love and blessings,


  3. It sounds like the best celebration you could have. The best. 🙂


  4. Angie,

    This is the best news I’ve heard in a long time! Thanks so much for sharing it with all of us, and I’m so glad you had that burger!


  5. Celebrate on my friend… celebrate on….!!


  6. Oh Ang, how thankful I am to hear your good news. May God be praised. Oh how I remember that dreadful machine. Rejoicing with you and Brian. Also your little ones.


  7. Oh, oh, oh, I just read your news and am so excited and have no one to be excited with! I am dancing inside. I hope you have sunshine and birdsong soon, Angie, to match the celebration going on in your house! Praise God from whom all blessings flow!


  8. Awesome. Just plain awesome.

    Hope you’re feeling better soon!!! You take good care.


  9. I just had a moment of celebration too….tears, prayers of thanks, gratefulness! Sonic……YUMMIE 🙂


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