ROME – It’s been two months now since I announced that I would be taking a professional hiatus due to the aggressive cycles of chemotherapy and immunotherapy I’ve been undergoing to battle stomach cancer. This 60-day mark seems an apt moment for a quick update on how I’m doing.

At the beginning, I’ll admit, things were rough. Without the tireless daily support of my wife, Elise Allen, I’m sure I probably would have imploded. Persistent nausea made it almost impossible to eat, with the result that I lost weight and became weaker and more susceptible to chronic exhaustion. There was a real risk of a vicious circle that would not have led anywhere good.

Fortunately, my doctors understood what was happening and put me on a new series of medications which have brought my nausea under control, allowing me to eat regularly and to regain some of the weight I had lost. My energy levels are much better too, so much so I’ve been able to resume working on a limited basis. Most of my productive time right now is being invested in a long-delayed book project, but I also hope to be back on the Crux site, at least every so often, very soon.

To sum up, while I still have good days and bad, I’m doing much better and seeing light at the end of the tunnel.

Now for three notes of thanks, organized in concentric circles of indebtedness.

First, I’d like to thank the doctors and nurses at the oncology department of Rome’s San Camillo Forlanini Hospital, who have been unfailingly both competent and compassionate. The standard of care I’m receiving is second to none, and the personal concern they display is remarkable.

For what it’s worth, my experience stands at odds with negative stereotypes of publicly funded healthcare as leading to lowered standards, inefficiency and bureaucratic indifference. On the contrary, the doctors and nurses I’ve come to know strike me as reflecting the high ideals of a system rooted in the classically Catholic notion that health care isn’t a commodity but a basic human right.

Second, I want to thank our friends in Rome – really, our family in Rome – who have rallied to make sure I’m taken care of, both physically and emotionally. When someone falls sick, it’s customary to say, “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.” Often that’s just rhetoric, but our Roman family has actually meant it, from making home visits and bringing care packages to giving us rides to and from treatment. All Elise and I have to do is to speak a need out loud, and someone will rise up to meet it.

I will never, ever stop being grateful, and all of you know who you are.

Third, I want to thank all of you who’ve written over the last two months to tell me you’re praying for me, to wish me well, to share your own stories with illness, or to say you miss my weekly video and podcast and my writings on the Crux site. I’ve been stunned, and touched beyond words, at how many of you have done so.

Over the years, I’ve often used the term “the Crux family” to refer to the extended network of people who read our site, who consume our other media, and who interact with our coverage. I know that formula these days can often be a sort of corporate catchphrase, or a marketing ploy, but I’ve never been more convinced than I am right now that when it comes to Crux, it’s not just words.

Please keep the prayers coming – among other things, this experience has deepened my faith in the power of intercession. Also, please know that even if I don’t respond to a note or message, that doesn’t mean I didn’t see it and take it to heart. Your support means the world, and it’s a large part of what’s getting me through this experience.

Thanks for everything, and please keep reading Crux!