I couldn't eat and my shinny top became the Yule Brenner look. Another MRI 2 months later showed that the tumor had grown. I stopped the chemotherapy....With the chemotherapy I can't eat and die. Without it I can eat and die. At least I can have the pleasure of the food.By that time I had told my children and some of my grandchildren that I would probably die within the year. I also changed my will to include a small amount of my substantial fortune for the Silvermans. I know that money is a poor. It’s the symbol of power we grow up to hate. It sparks dark thoughts and darker nightmares. And yet, it’s the one thing that has me really feeling anything but numbness and with a guttural cry I let go of… something, and fill her with a deluge of warm semen.- - -“Weekly calls,” she tells me as she laces up a pair of combat boots. “And a bi-weekly check-in at my office every Wednesday at 1pm. No bullshit. No excuses. More than five minutes late without a call and your black ass is cooked. Those. More

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