September 20

When I sat down to type this entry, I wasn't sure exactly what I'd say, but now that I'm sitting here, I'll think I'll just go for broke. (And sorry in advance if I'm oversharing. Since I don't have an image of what's to come --for good reason-- here's a cute pic of Abby and I after our evening stroll.)

It's been... a week. I guess that's the best way to put it. Monday morning I did what many (hopefully almost all!) women over 40 do each year: I went for my mammogram. (And if you're over 40 and you're not going, go do it.) By early afternoon on Tuesday, I knew that my results were abnormal and required additional screening to be scheduled "as soon as you can." After an initial jolt of panic hit me, I texted Adam, talked to a good friend, and scheduled the follow-up for today.

And then I did a lot of thinking. And praying. I've always been a worry wart, and the one thing that will make a worry wart an even bigger worrier is being hit with a one-in-millions diagnosis like Logan had. But strangely, rather than that sustained, sick-to-the-stomach feeling that plagued me the entire time my sweet boy was sick, my heart was mostly calm. And though I was still scared (to death, really) when I went back this morning, I felt actual comfort knowing that everything would be okay -- even if I didn't get the result I obviously wanted. And I was surprised that I could pray for what I wanted, but that I could also genuinely say "I will be okay with whatever You want for me."

So already long story shorter, I'm fine after all. The red flags the radiologist initially saw were resolved with some extra pictures, and then I was released to keep living this life of mine as I choose to live it.

So today, I choose to be thankful --deeply so-- that I'm okay and that my family hasn't been thrust into the darkness that is coping with another serious illness.