DAILY NANCY UPDATE #116

Greetings. 

This is the one hundred and sixteenth in a series of DAILY NANCY UPDATES I will be posting until the amazing Nancy Neufeld Callaway is in full remission and we have kicked her leukemia on its ass. 

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MONDAY NIGHT REPORT

Tonight I was shopping for some last minute stuff to get the house ready for Nancy's return home tomorrow (Tuesday)-- when suddenly I felt that telltale buzz in my pocket.

I grabbed my phone and saw I had missed not one, but two calls-- one from Shirley (our former nanny turned nurse who has lovingly spent every single night at the hospital with Nancy since her seizure), and the other from my son Crockett. Then Crockett sent me a backup text:

"Mom called, call her when u get a minute"

My heart sank. I left my groceries in the market and rushed outside to get a better signal and call Shirley. 

What was wrong now? After spending all day at City of Hope with Nancy, excitedly telling her about going home tomorrow and patiently, repeatedly walking her through every aspect of the plan-- had she already forgotten all of it? Was she upset and scared again-- still with no memories of what had happened to her-- trapped in a nightmarish fugue state after 60 confusing days in the hospital?

The phone rang. And rang. And rang. 

And then she finally answered. Only it wasn't Shirley. It was the Sunshiny Superwarrior Goddess, herself.

"Hey," I said in my most positive voice, trying not to let my own fear show. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," she said, cheerfully. "I was just calling to say goodnight and tell you I love you."

I think I managed to hold myself together just long enough to tell her the same-- and that I'd see her again in the morning.

Then I hung up and burst into tears.

I cried for the normal, average, sweetness of it all.

I cried for all the unimaginable hell she's been through over the past seven months.

I cried for all the sleepless nights and distracted days.

I cried for our kids who miss their Mom and their Dad-- and just want it over with already.

I cried for the time I was terrified we'd lost her.

I cried for the blanket of love we've been wrapped in by family and friends.

I cried for every meal we've been fed and every girlfriend who's held her hand.

I cried for her father, who needs his little girl back.

I cried for the nurses and doctors who've worked so hard to get her well.

I cried for a 20-year-old Israeli stranger, who gave his own blood for her life.

I cried for the future, which is finally starting to seem bright and beautiful again.

And I cried for every moment I hadn't earned the very love she was offering.

I hope my teenagers aren't reading this. They already think I'm a crybaby as is.

But if Nancy ever reads it-- I hope she understands how one simple call from her made everything right in my world.

Goodnight from Woodland Hills. Tomorrow I bring our girl home.

WE LOVE NANCY, and... 

ALL IS WELL!

Meal Train For The Callaways