![]() ![]() ![]() That's why I was getting the test, instead of treatment. ![]() A week! During that week, I spent a lot of time trying to visualize the slow-moving medical processes: acid dissolving the trace of bone, the slow catalysis of some obscure reagent, some process by which a stain darkened to yellow and then orange and then, days later, to red. But there wasn't any reason for it not to be either.īone cancer can take a week to diagnose. Someone in my little circle of forty-year-olds was bound to get a letter from the big C. My curve was ramping up, and now every big gathering of friends had at least one knot of somber people standing together and remembering someone who went too early. ![]() It hadn't started as a funeral suit, but once I'd worn it to three funerals in a row, I couldn't wear it anywhere else without feeling an unnamable and free-floating sorrow. By the time I was thirty-five, I had an actual funeral suit I kept in a dry-cleaning bag in the closet. My social mortality curve was a perfectly formed standard distribution-a few sparse and rare deaths before I was ten, slightly more through my teens, and then more in my twenties. I'm a forty-year-old, middle-class Angeleno. ![]()
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