“It all started with my balls.”
April 11, 2019 1:16 PM Subscribe
Instead of seeing the urologist, I would now need to see an oncologist. For a few days I comforted myself by pretending that, because of my abiding interest in the mysteries and niceties of Being, I had to see an ontologist. Nobody except one of my fellow Irish novelists thought this was funny.—Instead of shaking all over, I read the newspapers. I listened to the radio. I had my lunch, an essay by Colm Tóibín about getting cancer.
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