Is it our imagination? Or does Nelson really feel better? Could he actually be better?

Logic tells us this can’t be true…not yet. Nelson has had only one round of chemo and immunotherapy, yet to look at him, to listen to him, to watch him move tells us it’s true. He’s feeling better.

These many weeks, it’s been a challenge for him to walk the few steps from our apartment to the car without becoming winded, but yesterday he went for a walk with Ann Sophie, Will, and friend Jeremy from Tennessee. Then, later in the day, he suggested a second walk. “I feel a lot better,” he said.

Two mornings ago, he woke up saying, “Last night was the best sleep I’ve had since this whole thing began.” And there it was again. He’s feeling better!

We’ve heard about cancer patients who receive a blast of chemo, have a terrible week or so, and then start feeling better, like they did before the treatment. But this isn’t that. This is feeling better like he felt many months back, long before cancer treatment ever began.

Nelson is skipping some of his pain pills now. When he says, “I don’t really need that one,” we hear him saying he’s feeling better.

Last Thursday, he decided to get a haircut and went without either Ann Sophie or me. He drove himself. When he returned with shorter hair, my first thought was, “a new beginning.” And maybe it is.

Nelson is eating Ann Sophie’s healthy cooking, and he’s wearing his compression stockings to avoid blood clots. And when it comes time to drain his lung of its fluid close to bedtime, the three of us have always played a little game. We’ve each guessed at the milliliters that will end up in the bottle.

But during this last week, each night we’ve all guessed too high. What comes out now has decreased from more than a liter and a half to only 250 ml. This is an astounding development, and we are thrilled.

And one last thing. As the lung fluid has become less, it seems there is less swelling in his arm, hand, abdomen, back, ankles, and feet, too. Because of all this, we are rejoicing!

Of course we all know that circumstances could change tomorrow, and a new cancer-surprise might have arrived. Since he will most likely have his next chemo/immunotherapy on Tuesday, anything can happen in response to that. But as we practice living one day at a time, today has been a very manageable, exceedingly good day.

“This is the very day God acted—let’s celebrate and be festive! Salvation now, God. Salvation now! Oh yes, God—a free and full life!” (Psalm 118:24-25, The Message)