LDL. “We’re in Recovery… and He Spoke to Us”: Will Roberts Wakes Up After Tumor-Freezing Procedure as Family Holds Tight to Faith

Ralph, Alabama — For the Roberts family, today wasn’t just another hospital day. It was one of those days that feels like it could tilt the whole story in a different direction — or at least offer one clear breath in the middle of a long fight.

In a new update shared after a critical medical procedure, Will Roberts’ family said they are now in recovery, and the doctor believes she was able to reach both tumors and freeze them entirely.

It’s the kind of sentence that families remember forever — not because it ends the battle, but because it’s a rare moment where the word “confident” enters the conversation.

“He woke up… and he spoke.”

According to Will’s mom, Brittney, Will has already woken up and spoken to them after the procedure — a small detail that landed like something much bigger.

Anyone who has sat in a waiting room knows that sound. A voice you love, returning after hours of fear. A few words that feel like proof that the person you’re fighting for is still right there.

The family shared that Will will remain in recovery for about two hours for monitoring before he is transported back to his room.

But even with encouraging news, the update made something clear: this was not an easy day.

The pain before the procedure — and the new explanation doctors suspect

Brittney said Will was in a lot of pain before he went back for the procedure — the kind that doesn’t just hurt the body, but wears down everything else too: patience, strength, hope, and even faith.

Doctors now believe the stomach pain that has been alarming the family may be tied to bladder spasms, related to where a tumor was cut from the outer edges and then sewn back together.

For families living through complex cancer care, that explanation matters. Not because it makes the pain “fine,” but because clarity can sometimes lower panic. When pain has a name, it stops being a total mystery — and mystery is one of the most terrifying parts of life inside a hospital.

“I am a bit relieved,” Brittney wrote, reflecting that having a medical reason behind the pain brought a measure of comfort amid the uncertainty.

Dominoes in a hospital room: the small ritual that kept them steady

In the middle of everything, the family did something beautifully ordinary: they played dominoes.

Not because the situation was light. Not because they weren’t scared. But because sometimes families need a small, familiar ritual to keep the world from collapsing into one long, terrifying thought.

It’s a picture that’s instantly relatable to anyone who’s ever waited for news: hands moving, tiles clicking, a forced distraction — the mind clinging to anything that feels normal, even for five minutes.

Brittney said they kept telling themselves a phrase that has become a lifeline for them:

“He’s in no better hands than God’s.”
“And we’re right where God led us.”

A prayer in the room — and a gratitude that doesn’t depend on outcomes

When they arrived at the room, Brittney said they prayed over Will and thanked God — not only for the procedure itself, but for what she described as “the blessing alone of allowing us to make it here.”

That line stood out to many who follow Will’s journey because it reveals something deeper than optimism. It’s the kind of gratitude that shows up when people have lived long enough inside fear that they stop taking anything for granted.

For this family, faith is not a decorative phrase. It’s the framework they return to when there’s nothing else left to hold.

“We are doing everything to get him the best care,” Brittney shared, “but at the end of the day God is the one in control.”

“Today was one of those days… but I’m back.”

In one of the most honest parts of the message, Brittney admitted that this day tested her emotionally.

“I have to be pulled back up at times,” she wrote. “And today was one of those days. I’m back.”

That kind of line resonates because it doesn’t pretend strength is automatic. It shows the reality that families living through long medical battles don’t wake up brave every day. Sometimes they fall apart. Sometimes they need someone else to lift them back into the fight.

And then they keep going — because their child is counting on them to.

“Tomorrow is a new day.”

The update ended with a forward-looking hope that many readers clung to immediately:

“Tomorrow is a new day and a day for him to grow stronger from this fight he’s just endured.”

In cancer journeys, “tomorrow” becomes more than a calendar date. It becomes a goal. A step. A promise to keep trying.

For now, Will is being monitored, recovering from a procedure that doctors believe successfully targeted both tumors. The family is asking for prayers specifically for fast healing and pain relief, knowing that the hours after a procedure can be as challenging as the days leading up to it.

How to support Will tonight

If you’ve been following Will’s story, the family’s request is simple:

• Pray for Will’s healing
• Pray for relief from pain
• Leave encouragement that he can read when he’s fully awake

Sometimes, the most powerful support isn’t a dramatic gesture. It’s a message that reminds a 14-year-old kid he isn’t fighting alone — and that the world is still cheering for him, one day at a time.