But his cancer didn’t go away, and neither did the deluge of optimism that flowed over both of us — my dad, the patient, and me, his sole caregiver. It was wearing him down, and me along with him.
During one visit, family acquaintances kept steering the conversation back to a supposed Amazonian miracle cure they’d read about. My dad should try it, they said. You never know. When I pointed out that he wasn’t exactly in a condition to travel to South America, they suggested I go hunt it down and bring it back.
That was when I finally snapped and asked them to leave.
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