Those were the words I barely choked out yesterday morning on the phone with my Brian.
My cell phone rang earlier in the morning, and I saw the number for my endocrinologist. I stood there. Frozen. And immediately nauseous.
“If I pick that up and answer it, the waiting will be over.”
“If I pick that up and answer it, I will know if there’s a recurrence or not.”
“If I pick that up and answer it, my world could crumple again.”
The ringing seemed to take on an insistent tone.
“When I pick this up…” my hand held it and my thumb shook, ready to slide on my iPhone. “When I pick this up, one way or another, my world will be changed.”
“Angela?” I heard her voice–the nurse who has become so familiar to me that when she calls or when I am in the office, we talk about what books we’re reading and offer new suggestions. We talk about vacations and great eating spots. We talk about life. “One of your tests…”
The nausea was overwhelming when she paused.
“Oh, wait.” she laughed her apology, “That’s a note for the doctor. I’m sorry. Okay. The results of your full body scan are negative. This is excellent news!”
I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath, and it exploded out. She laughed again, “I can see you’re relieved. So am I, dear girl. So am I.”
I thanked her. We said our good-byes. I hung up the phone.
And crumpled.
I gained my composure and called my Bri.
When I heard his voice, I crumpled again.
Another yes.
So many yeses.
Truly. God’s mercy to us is overwhelming.
“Could it be?” I choked it out, “One year. One year of no more scans? One year of no surgeries or hospitalizations? Could it be possible?”
I could hear his grin.
“It’s possible, babe.”
“Could it be? One year? One year of just routine follow-ups? Perhaps an iron infusion or two? One year? Could it be possible?”
I could tell his grin had widened.
“It’s possible, babe.”
“Oh my stars! I don’t know what to do with myself!!!!”
We laughed together.
Truly, I don’t know what to do with myself.
I know this doesn’t mean things will change overnight. I know I will wrestle with fatigue and chronic pain from past surgeries. I know I will struggle with side effects from the meds I’m on for 3 more years. I know I will have lupus flares and joint pain. I know from a physical standpoint, life won’t ever be easy for me.
But I also know that I don’t have cancer.
And that is enough for now.
“Hope itself is like a star- not to be seen in the sunshine of prosperity, and only to be discovered in the night of adversity. ”
— Charles H. Spurgeon
Thank you, those who have prayed and encouraged along the way. I am humbled by your love.
Will you praise Him with me?
He is the only One worthy.
A Spring of Joy 
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