A hero of mine, author and neurologist
Oliver Sacks, has been diagnosed with terminal liver cancer. I have read everything he has published, I think, except one book. I have even read his text books. Uncle Tungsten was a favourite in which he eulogized his teachers.
He wrote an op-ed
in the New York Times today expressing how he plans to spend the last months of
his life: deepening friendships, saying goodbye, writing, and traveling. “I
cannot pretend I am without fear. But my predominant feeling is one of
gratitude…
“I have loved and been loved; I have been
given much and I have given something in return; I have read and traveled and
thought and written. I have had an intercourse with the world, the special
intercourse of writers and readers
“Above all, I have been a sentient being, a
thinking animal, on this beautiful planet, and that in itself has been an
enormous privilege and adventure.”
Sad. Sad. Sad.
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