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Maybe Tony Snow started it... but I keep thinking about patients who think that they have out-foxed (intentional pun there) their disease and who have been wrong.

There are many, of course, who are right.

And my heart hurts.

Both with the ones who were right, and the ones who were wrong.

The ones who are right? We wait six months, and then we'll know. Well, not really. We'll know something... every six months.

Until it kills you... or something else does.

The ones who are wrong? we know right now.

I'm in the wrong fucking business, sometimes I think.

I was in the scan room today, so I get to relate directly with the patients. An amazing number of them ask me, "Doug, is it OK?" I always have to answer, "your doc will let you know. I can't give you any information."

And they always know that I know.

And they're almost always slightly pissed that I won't tell them anything.

So I tell them that I have grandkids to feed and that losing my job will imperil that, and they seem to do OK after that.

Substitute one lie for another... isn't that a politicians' domain?

Still, it's my chosen profession, and I cannot deny that I'm pretty good at it.

And I have, almost without exception, very good people that I work with... they are just as caring and compassionate as I am.

But they seem to operate without the pain.

And I envy them that.