My brother had surgery last week. He flew from Jamaica to Texas where he underwent a state-of-the-art operation at the MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston. He was able to return to Jamaica yesterday and will be recuperating at home for the next four weeks. In six weeks, he will return to Houston for follow up.
Despite some pain and discomfort, his spirits are good. His voice, which had a slight waver in it the day after his surgery, is once again deep and strong. Most of all, he does not want people treating him as if he is ill. He is a doctor, and points out with professional calm that his cancer was found very early, during a routine physical exam, and he will be just fine. The last thing he wants is people worrying over him and putting him in the position of reassuring them ad nauseum.
Still. It did bring home to me that I don't see my brother nearly enough in these adult lives we have crafted on separate land masses with oceans between. I have promised my brother to remedy that.