59 years and falling apart in the hospital from Cancer. He had gone from his healthy weight of 180 pounds to 130 pounds (fifteen pounds less than I was). I brought a bible for him to read but he refused to read anything. He stared at the walls all day. My mother told me that even if he did get over the Chemotherapy, he would have to be in a nursing home because he couldn't lift himself up.

Two days before we left for Spokane, I told my mother we needed to wake up and do something and I asked if she'd considered physical therapy. She said no, but that he wouldn't want to do it and would be mad at her.

So when we visited, I took the doctor aside and asked him. He said,"Yeah, sure, we can do it". Then he told my dad they would start the next day. Dad didn't look too happy about it, but I lived 2200 miles away, so I got away with it.

The day before Miimii and I left, Dad was much more cheerful and alert...a dramatic improvement. We told them to stop the chemotherapy. In a few weeks he'd fully recovered. Then he tackled the enormous task of getting fat again.