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Mom and Dad to the rescue of their Chemosabi son against the BIg C

January 22, 2012
Getting ensconced in my recliner at the Infusion room in the Stanford Cancer Center. Drawing on the another mother’s milk. Golding the photo of Mom and Dad (Gone, Gone) Dad died from infections due to a botched surgery from a Doc we trusted, so he is my guardian angel, and if a doc makes a mistake I fire them. My basic line. You chose to be a doctor. I didn’t choose to have cancer. I outrank you. Next! I’m listening to Dad, Mom, I’m listening. Have to bring them into the room to be there with me. They’re beaming down their strength through the man they raised, and baby, I’m taking all I can get. Thanks for being with me Mom and Dad, always. Cancer doesn’t have parents or a childhood. ANd we’re doing an airdrop on it. I’m not alone, I never was, and never will be.
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