Archive for August 8th, 2019

Further Test Result

I really don’t know how to react. The result of the CT scan for my brother is in. Here’s the impression:

Consider rectal malignancy. Hepatic metastases. Tiny cholecystolith. Renal cysts, bilateral, Grade II prostate enlargement.

I just talked to my brother a few minutes ago and I could sense the strength in his words. He had let go and let God do the greatest healing for him. His faith is strong. He is not considering operation because he does not want it. He has to consult with his doctors before he makes the next move.

I always keep these words in mind. “More things are wrought by prayers than this world dreams of.”

Nissa has recently been to the doctor too because she has enlarged thyroid (left side). There is a lump in her throat and she still need to have it biopsied. She had TSH test and was normal.

Glory to God. I lift everything to you Lord.


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My tab died on me the other night and I buried it deep among my present journal, some utility bills and blank  3″ x 5″ index cards that I  use as scratch pads, you know those little everyday reminders that you don’t want to miss. I am reading  a real book now for a change, those trade paperbacks that my niece gave me back home in the province. 

We have a group at FB called Flip Flipping Pages and one of the topics they lately posted was your favorite books and authors. Then I thought of Khaled Hosseini, an Afghan author I discovered close to ten years ago. I wrote a review of his book, A Thousand Splendid Suns. Reblogging it here for those who haven’t read it yet.

Dreams And Escapes


“One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls”.

If Khaled Hosseini shines in The Kite Runner, he was even more brilliant as a writer in A Thousand Splendid Suns. And if I shed a tear or two reading the former, I cried buckets reading the latter. I like the simple prose that touches the heart. Once again, the setting was in Afghanistan, this time, Hosseini takes us to the last thirty three years of the country’s history of war and oppression through the eyes of two women with minute details that jump into you and seem so real. You also feel the pain and anguish as you read along and begins to hate the oppressors as much as the other characters in the book. Women in the old Afghanistan were forced into marriage at an early…

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