I couldn’t stay away for too long. Just a bit of an update: I’m continuing radiation treatments, I think we’re at treatment five. The treatments feel like nothing and are often anti-climactic. But I’m tired, and love to lie down silently even if not sleeping, which is what I do most of my afternoons.

People have asked – what does it feel like to go through this? Exactly like you all are witnessing with me. Really, it’s exactly as you’d imagine. It feels like I’m a sonic boom, and that you all are in this sonic boom with me. I told this to my dad the other morning, and he asked what I thought the point of this was. I said I don’t know. He said it was pointless.

Later that evening, I was alone with my parents. I had a friend visit earlier – my last, before the halt. She had flown in from Botswana and brought a few items. Among them: street food from a Botswana food market. It remains to be the only food my mom has thrown away –I may get some diarrhea from the Temodar, I will try to not complicate things with the street food. She also brought African chocolates – by African, I mean various cocoa bars bought somewhere on the continent. Those we saved.

I asked for something sweet to eat before I went to bed. My mom brought the chocolates. I was sitting at the side of the bed, my apartment dimly lit, with just a few yellow lights glowing softly behind us. My mom knelt on the floor in front of me, my dad next to me on my bed. I started with a big Cadbury bar, eyeing the 70% cocoa dark chocolate bar, lightly salted – the wrapper was written in Arabic and French, but we could still make out the specifics of the chocolate. My dad asked my mom to open the dark bar, while I was simply content and busy eating the Cadbury. I could tell my mom was just a little uncomfortable that he had asked, which made me burst out into laughter. We then all opened the dark bar and each had a small taste, it was delicious.

I don’t know why this sonic boom is happening. But at least I get to share this tender moment at the foot of my bed with my parents.