Hello, God? It's me again...

Thank you for red skies at night, and for helping us do what's right. Thank you for the rain that makes the trees and flowers grow. Thank you for sunshine that refreshes our souls and makes us whole. Thank you for family, loved ones, and friends. Thank you for making things new again.

Thank you, God, for being there. Thank you, God, for being EVERYWHERE, and THANK YOU
for allowing us to lean on you. (Can you please give a little shout out to our parents, and newly departed friends?)

In my short 52 years, I think I've learned, that to lead a happy life, you must believe in three things: Believe in yourself, believe in what you do, and believe that there is something greater than yourself, in which (however the manifestation), you trust to save you, hold you, guide you and protect you.

So, God (she's the one greater than myself)... thanks for getting us through that MRI today. It was a real bugger.

As you know, The Ex is a healthy-sized fella. He barely fits in that thing they call an "Open MRI." Eighty pounds ago, I doubt he'd have even FIT in that tube... you know, the one they call "open?" So, thanks God, for that weight loss. It's been a real Godsend... heh... if you know what I mean.

Thank you, God, for that saint of an MRI nurse today (first without contrast, then with).

When The Ex said he had to get up after the first non-contrast scans, we thought we'd have to cancel and start all over again later. Thank you for allowing that darling nurse and I (ETC) to work out an alternate plan, give The Ex more valium, and another 20 minutes for them to kick in, to enable The Ex to stand the scanxiety.

The MRI nurse was forced to reset his position, but it was necessary, and we got through it, without screwing up the whole schedule.

Thank you, God, for all of that.

Now, all we need is a good prognosis from these two scans.

Tell us he's going to live for a good while longer, so I can go home and vist my husband, who's given me up as the Ex's caregiver.

Tell us that his 3-6 month life sentence (we're way past the 3-month mark) was incorrect, that he will live long enough to see our son graduate from college, and, in his favor, a Constitutionalist, is elected to the presidency.

Let him live to see the marriage of his son and his son's first child... (we're NOwhere NEAR that). Let him live to see his heritage procreate. Please, just let him live.

And let me go home... to the most understanding and wonderful husband in the world.

Please, God... let it be so.