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Show CHRYSALIS PAGE 150 En route to the examining table I meet a handsome young man who has Hodgkins Disease. His name is Eddie. He says this is his last visit. "Good for you!" I tell him. But it's not so good. His treatments, besides having made him sterile, are unbearable. "I've quit relying so much on orthodox medicine. Radiation and chemotherapy are Hell," he says. "Literal Hell." "What will you do instead?" I ask him. "I've been eating better, watching my diet. Chaparrel tea and apricot pits have helped the most." Chaparrel tea and apricot pits! Eddie tells me he is twenty-two years old. And he has consigned himself into the care of tea and apricot pits! I know that Hodgkins Disease is one of the more controILable forms of cancer. Radiation and nitrogen mustard are surely not pleasant, but tea and apricot pits! How many of "us" would jump at having his chance of living for another twenty years with any amount of temporary discomfort, (even Hell!) from "orthodox" treatment. And he's giving up. Bon voyage, Eddie. I wish you well. I take time out to look around me. I see a few people I've seen here before. We are like members of an exclusive club. With very high dues. We are all in the same boat. There is |