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...to me than what I had already been through, watching patients (including children) die of cancer knowing there might be something more to save them if not for corruption. If not my drug, then someone else's. But I knew greed was limiting their choices, and watching kids die of cancer is bad enough when you don't know that.

In that same setting I lost the best man I ever knew, for whom I titled my book THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER. That's the title of an Irish poem about betrayal and death.