Christopher Hitchens writes of his transition from a healthy man to a dying man with grace and clarity.
He holds out the possibility of more writing, but can't even promise that:
Against me is the blind, emotionless alien, cheered on by some who have long wished me ill. But on the side of my continued life is a group of brilliant and selfless physicians plus an astonishing number of prayer groups. On both of these I hope to write next time if—as my father invariably said—I am spared.
His father, by coincidence, died of the same esophageal cancer that Hitchens now struggles against.
Wednesday, August 04, 2010
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