A MUCH-NEEDED VACATION
From The Cancer Chronicles #17
© Sept. 1993 by Ralph W. Moss, Ph.D.
After a hectic two years, my wife and I finally decided to take a much-needed summer vacation. We went to a secluded island for a couple of days, then followed that with a few days of meandering the blue highways of southern New England. "One condition," she said. "No cancer."
I knew what she meant. Our last so-called vacation had been a frenetic tour of the radio stations and health food stores of southern Florida. And so, I pledged to be good. No cancer. No motor-mouth lectures on the intricacies of the OAM.
But, unfortunately, cancer is in the air. In an island restaurant, people at the next table whispered "Šwent in for a biopsy," with ominous looks all around. At a Connecticut tag sale, the suburban housewife was nervously selling "tumorous mice," two for five cents. "I don¹t know what happened," she ponders. "We bought them as pets for my son, and then, these bumps appeared on their backs." Forgetting my pledge, I tell her about the rate of spontaneous tumors among such rodents.
We were having a leisurely Saturday brunch at a Middle East deli in Lenox,
MA when we heard the news about Dr. Atkins: a radio announcement via the
AP wire that "Dr. Bob¹s" license had been suspended. My wife and I stared
at each other in amazement. You can run, her look seemed to say, but you
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