Then today, I go over to his house, walk into the front room, and he's sitting up, speaking with a very strong voice, and gesturing, while participating in an online study group. I look down and see that his feet and ankles, which have been elephant sized for the past couple of months, (a crippling side effect of the steroids they give him to keep the tumor in check), are now skinny!
He hasn't been able to wear shoes, or even walk for more than a numb shuffle about the house, for ages. But now, his shoes are actually loose on his feet! He felt so good, he came out to lunch with us, leaving his wheelchair and walker behind, using only a cane.
While we sat eating, he actually started talking about ideas and dreams that he and his wife had, before he got sick. I'm hesitant to get my hopes up too high, but there's no denying a marked and rapid improvement in his condition and demeanor.
What or Whom do we have to thank for this miracle? I'm going to play it safe, and thank God!
His sister, who just came into town, is an Episcopal chaplain, and carries holy oil. She had blessed him with it last night, and prayed for his healing.
He's also taking at least two supplements, that are supposed to be mighty good stuff for immune function. The doctors are tweaking his medications, lowering the steroid dose, adding lasix. And then there are the dreams. He dreamed he died and was saying goodbye to us all. Then he woke up, and wondered what it meant, if perhaps he was "done dying now".
I certainly hope so.