Do you believe in miracles?

We do. And you should.

As it turns out, we have had a bit of a miracle occur in our lives.

This morning, I received the dreaded phone call from our vet's office, with the dreaded results from Tessa's biopsy last Friday. My heart sank and I physically braced myself. And then the doctor said:

"It's good news."

I immediately turned into a shaking, blubbering, crying mess, and said, "What?! It's good news??"

Amazingly, incredibly, fantastically, unbelievably...

Tessa does not have cancer.

The doctor explained that the biopsy came back negative. The pathologist said that the results show severely inflamed lymph nodes, but it is NOT CANCER. Instead, it is some harmless inflammatory disease/disorder that will go away on its own.

Can you believe it? We don't even have to do anything. It will just go away with time.

I probably asked at least twice if they were sure, or whether this could still be lymphoma, just in a developmental stage. She said no, there is nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about.

After that, I don't know that I heard anything at all. I just cried. And cried.

She's going to be OK.

I hung up the phone and found myself just so completely overwhelmed by it all. Not only the emotion of it, but by what this means for us.

This changes everything.

In the same way that the bad news of the initial diagnosis knocked us off of our feet and seemingly changed our lives forever, the good news has picked us back up and changed our lives forever.

I had started to try to come to terms with the fact that most likely, Tessa wouldn't be around next spring or summer. She wouldn't be around when we have kids. I wondered if we would still be able to take our planned trip to Vegas in February. We had discussions about what we might be willing to spend on her potential treatment, and what we would give up in order to pay for it.

And now, magically, that has all disappeared. A huge weight off of our shoulders.

The last couple of weeks have been pretty hellish. And I am so grateful that we are now in the light at the end of the tunnel, and things aren't at all what we originally thought.

As for Tess, she is our little miracle girl. When I picked up that phone today, I never expected to hear good news. I won't lie, I had allowed myself to hope just a little that maybe, just maybe it wasn't cancer. The doctors seemed almost positive that it was lymphoma, and so I believed them, but I still found myself thinking, "But what if it's not?"

And lo and behold... it's not.

I think the doctors are even surprised. They thought it was cancer. They told us it was, and they watched us break down and cry over it. She did say they weren't 100%, but they did seem sure. Sure enough, anyway.

Our next step is to take Tess into the vet on Monday for her appointment to remove her sutures. At that point, the doctor is going to check out her lymph nodes, show us where to periodically check for her other ones (to make sure they don't swell), and tell us more about this condition that she has. To be honest, I don't even know/remember the name of it. She said it on the phone, but at that moment, I was so deliriously happy that I just didn't care. The name was long and complicated, and the only important information for me was IT'S NOT CANCER. (I honestly don't think I can say that enough times. IT'S NOT CANCER!!)

But that's Monday. First things first: A celebration.

Tonight, we are busting out the bottle of champagne that has been sitting in the back of our fridge. Up until this morning, we didn't think we would have anything to celebrate for a really long time. But we do.

And tomorrow night? We are having my family over for dinner. We made the plans and asked them before we knew the results. We haven't been together in a while and I figured it'd be a good opportunity for everyone to get to spend time with and visit Tess. Now, it's going to turn into an all out celebration.

I can't thank everybody enough. All of our family, friends, readers, and strangers who sent us well wishes. Who hoped for us, or prayed for us. I told Michael and my mom this morning that I feel horrible for worrying everybody. I feel bad that everyone thought our dog had cancer. Everyone was so nice, so sympathetic, so sad for us. And it turned out to be nothing. So for that, I am sorry. And I thank you.

She's a little dog, but she means a lot to us--clearly.

Even now that we have a positive outcome, I can say that I hate that we had to go through all of this. All of the worry, the sorrow, the not-knowing, the depression. I wouldn't wish it on anybody else. The last three weeks sucked; they really did.

But I can also see it for what it was: a lesson. A lesson in love, hope, strength, and courage.

A lesson that life is precious. Life is good.