Cancer-free?

 Who knows. The scan of Geoff's liver showed fatty tissue, that's all. So no cancer there. Perhaps his weakness is just from depression and lack of energy, who knows? He's weak. For example, the other day our grandson was roller-blading down the road (he's nine years old) and Geoff was at the bottom of that same road and the grandson went too fast and couldn't stop. I yelled at Geoff to grab him, which he did, and they both fell down. Luckily both unhurt. 

And this time ...

 it was okay. No cancer detectable, but the itch persists. Geoff has a terrible itch all over his body. He also can't raise his arms above his head without feeling dizzy, so can't put dishes away any more. He also can't of course hang washing or help much with any housework. He can watch Netflix and eat ice-cream. He can also make coffee. That's about it. 

Cancer feels like something that won't let go

uu I'm trying to think of a good metaphor for the way it seems (from the outside at least). As though you've just clonked one kind of cancer on the head and you think that's that, and then something (some creature)  holds on. Grimly. Some THING  shifts its handhold onto yet another part of the vulnerable body. (In this case, it seems that Geoff's liver is under attack. We shall see.) Like a very slow wrestling match. Over eight years, so far. Eleven. You really can't count, can you?

Geoff started driving again today

 This is going to make a huge difference! He hasn't been able to drive for months and months, and this means he can maybe go get his own medication and get to the beach without me having to drive him every time. Yay!