“I might die within two or three years. But before I die, I’m going to work on my middos and become a better husband and father.”
Thursday, April 8, 2010. I was visiting my doctor for a routine checkup, when he looked at me gravely and said, “You have a huge tumor.”
His words came as a total shock. I was healthy, in my mid-50s, and wasn’t experiencing any unusual symptoms.
Having worked as a radiologist for close to three decades, however, I wasn’t terribly concerned, since I knew that the type of tumor my doctor had found was easily curable in most cases.
Initial testing showed that my tumor was a rare type, more aggressive than most and less responsive to treatment. Still, I figured that as long as the tumor hadn’t spread, it wasn’t so bad.
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