So, I have managed to drag my bum to Israel. My father looks ill and feels ill too. He is lucky that he has more hair than anyone I know, because it just looks thinner. And whiter. He is in a relatively good mood, or at least he was yesterday. My mother is just about coping, I think.
So, doctor news. My dad had a blood test and what I will call the Cancer Count is down. Good. It means that the tumour cells are dying. Problem is that he still feels shitty. Supervising Doctor seems to think that this is the chemo's fault. So the current recommendation is the following: After his 7th treatment (on Monday), if he doesn't feel better, he will come off the chemo, fly back to Houston and straight into radiation. That would bring us to the middle of January. Which is very fast. If he starts to feel better, on the other hand, he should continue with the chemo for the last dose.
I am at my grandmother's again, and feeling a little bit detached. Sensible Brother needs to talk to me about something that he can't say in front of other people. It could be completely unrelated, but something is clearly bugging him about my behaviour. Or something. I will know more soon, I hope.
Otherwise, we are still yo-yo-ing. One day I truly believe that this will all be over by Passover and that he will be fine. Other days I feel like the doctors are just making it seem better than it is and that people are just trying to protect us. Or me. Or someone. But no one is being protected here. Protection implies that someone is safe. None of us are safe without the Truth. With It, we are quite capable of protecting ourselves.