In my relentless pursuit of a solution—which is really just an attempt to save my father’s skin—I’ve been reading Dr. Breussa’s book, and I truly believe it holds weight. I actually know two people who successfully purged the illness from their systems using this method. As far as I'm concerned, I would push my dad to start fasting immediately, but I am terrified of racing against the clock. The book suggests waiting at least six months after surgery before starting the therapy, yet in our case, it has only been 16 days. And the metastases? They have aggressively invaded his brain; one of them is nearly 1.5 inches and located in the cerebellum, which has completely wrecked his sense of balance. His overall condition is nothing short of catastrophic. Now I find myself wondering—what if I had known about these things thirty days sooner? What if he hadn't gone through with the surgery? But we can't turn back the hands of time, and we can't see the answers before they arrive.
Next week he starts ten rounds of radiation, so we shall see... I refuse to let the prognosis discourage me; I always tell everyone upfront that I simply don't care about those numbers. I only want concrete facts. Perhaps psychologists would call this "denial," but I will tell you all this: there is plenty of time for crying and despair later. As long as there is breath in his lungs and blood pumping through his veins, remember this—there is NO GIVING UP.
Next week he starts ten rounds of radiation, so we shall see... I refuse to let the prognosis discourage me; I always tell everyone upfront that I simply don't care about those numbers. I only want concrete facts. Perhaps psychologists would call this "denial," but I will tell you all this: there is plenty of time for crying and despair later. As long as there is breath in his lungs and blood pumping through his veins, remember this—there is NO GIVING UP.