In 2011, two of my friends were diagnosed with brain cancer. One died six months later. One is still living. Both suffered through the debilitation of brain cancer, the rattling of their lives and the realization that their life was terminal. Both were too young to have the hammer of disease pummel their lives. They were family men, a teacher and a lawyer, and both the kind of guys that laughed and loved and brought life into the world.
At the time they were diagnosed, I hadn't thought much about the right-to-die movement; most forty somethings haven't experienced a whole lot of death at that point in their lives. But this was different -- this was immediate. I saw my friend at work every day, watched his brain trick and tease him ...
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