And the winner is . . .

. . . well, it’s still a little early to crown a winner but a leader certainly has emerged. But more on that in a moment . . .

New York, New York. There really is no place like it. Where else can you be cured of cancer while being serenaded by the incessant blast of taxi horns?

Cecily and I are enjoying the company (and fine accommodations) of Jill on the upper Eastside. By my calculations this is saving us about two grand. And we’re having a great time. I think we owe her big time.

We met with the renegade doctor (NY2) today. It was a two-hour consultation. Very thorough interview, medical history, and exam. Say what you want about this guy, but he certainly paid attention during his classes on patient intake procedures.

Among the issues that we discussed is that unlike most cancers, sarcomas thrive in an alkaline environment. Which means that unlike most types of cancer, sarcomas benefit from a vegetarian diet and have difficulty progressing in a meat-rich diet. Which means that I have been cleared to eat red meat. Which means that a restaurant was our first stop after leaving his office. Which means that tears were streaming down my face with the first bite of that juicy rib-eye steak. Which means that this guy is my new best friend. Which, as I’ve said, means that this guy is going to be tough to beat. Seduced by a steak.

At the conclusion of the physical exam, he marveled at the prior surgical work that was performed in 1992 and 2001 by NY1. Regardless of whether we talk with mainstream doctors, outlaw doctors, chemo advocates or chemo opponents, everybody reveres this guy. As NY2 said about NY1 as I gathered up my gown, “that’s the difference between being treated by a surgeon and by a Master.” High praise indeed.

We return to NY2’s office tomorrow morning to learn the details of how his treatment protocol will be tailored to my particular case. Should be interesting.

On Friday morning we visit with NY1 to get his opinion on what surgical options should be considered at this stage. Overall, I’m feeling quite optimistic. And the taxi horns continue to blare.