My mother's neuro-oncologist revised his proclamation of two weeks ago. My mother will not walk again. He gives her three to six months to live. She is no longer eligible for any clinical trials.
Here is the transcript of my conversation with her from this morning:
"Hi, Mom."
"Hi, Terry."
"How are you feeling?"
"Very well."
"I heard you went to the doctor yesterday. How did that go?"
"Very well."
"How's the doctor?"
"He's happy."
"What did you have for breakfast today?"
"Oh, I'm glad. That's great news. Oh, good."
"What did you have for breakfast today?"
"Corn flakes."
"I love you, Mom."
"I know you do. I know that, Terry. I love you, too."
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