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Episode 2: Tim reads a rejected Shouts and Murmurs story (rejected by the failing New Yorker magazine) about a fellow emailing his doctor regarding his pancreatic cancer treatment options. He isn't sure he wants treatment at all, but that decision is contingent on a few pieces of information.
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I do hope that your offer to email with any questions whatsoever was not just one of cordiality, for since my last appointment, some doubt has arisen regarding my treatment options. It is not the variety that perplexes me, indeed I wasn’t listening when you described their differences, but rather the necessity of undergoing treatment at all. My immediate resolution, one you will remember as it surprised you, was to forgo anything that might prolong my life. Yet that decision lost its certainty with a misgiving that joined me in bed last night.
It came after the throbbing of my pancreas (no doubt due to the tumor enveloping its entirety) prompted another examination of my mortality. This revisitation revealed a perspective I had not entertained previously: what if there was legitimacy to my Sunday school’s curriculum? What if (at this point I was sitting up in my bed, flicking cold sweat from my brow) there really is a life after death? Ludicrous! Wouldn’t you agree? I hope you will.
~
For other resources, visit timdrugan.com.
Episode 2: Tim reads a rejected Shouts and Murmurs story (rejected by the failing New Yorker magazine) about a fellow emailing his doctor regarding his pancreatic cancer treatment options. He isn't sure he wants treatment at all, but that decision is contingent on a few pieces of information.
~
I do hope that your offer to email with any questions whatsoever was not just one of cordiality, for since my last appointment, some doubt has arisen regarding my treatment options. It is not the variety that perplexes me, indeed I wasn’t listening when you described their differences, but rather the necessity of undergoing treatment at all. My immediate resolution, one you will remember as it surprised you, was to forgo anything that might prolong my life. Yet that decision lost its certainty with a misgiving that joined me in bed last night.
It came after the throbbing of my pancreas (no doubt due to the tumor enveloping its entirety) prompted another examination of my mortality. This revisitation revealed a perspective I had not entertained previously: what if there was legitimacy to my Sunday school’s curriculum? What if (at this point I was sitting up in my bed, flicking cold sweat from my brow) there really is a life after death? Ludicrous! Wouldn’t you agree? I hope you will.
~
For other resources, visit timdrugan.com.