#3. OK, Now What?

Well, now that we all agree it is cancer (". . . well, probably . . ."), let's get on with it!

You'll need chemotherapy, and radiation therapy, aromatherapy (Hey, why not?) and surgery, and more chemotherapy, and a puppy, maybe.

Whoa!

As my friend John says, "Hold 'er, Newt."  What we really need is a second opinion.

The reaction was interesting.  The words said, "Of course.  You have every right to seek other medical input.  I respect your decision."  The words seemed to say, "Sir, you have impugned my honour, my professional abilities, my family members both alive and dead, and I am hurt, so hurt."

Well, whatever.  Please refer us to Princess Margaret Hospital in Toronto.  Let us decide where I want to be treated.  Thank you.

And so it was that we came to be sitting here, on a cold, sunny day in Toronto, the first week of a five-week tour: pills and radiation machines, doctors and nurses, imagers and their imaging machines, pharmacists and techies and receptionists and volunteers and the seething tide of humanity that appear to have signed up for the same tour.

We go on.