And finally . . .

Somewhere in the middle of the day I received the following email from my oldest son, who I think was trying to encourage me in advance of my visit to the Trabectedin trial clinic:

"I told you a couple weeks ago to call (SF1) and (SF2) seeking an appointment. You told me you had to wait to hear back from Dr. God in NY. But Dr. God didn't offer shit in terms of information. If you had listened to me then you would at least have an appointment now. You need to stop wasting time. Go to the ER and now. Do not drive to LA to look at fucking squid or sea turtles or whatever the fuck they are. This is not a fucking science field trip. This is cancer."

I think as he matures he’ll grow out of his shyness and become more self-assured.