Dear Graybeard,

If being negative means accurately describing the absurdity of getting nuked, needled, neutered, and nauseated in the name of "wellness," then count me among the pessimists. As for declining treatment—yes, the idea of riding off into the sunset with dignity, whiskey, and a complete set of hormones has crossed more than one scorched mind.

But here we are: the unwilling scribes of the oncology underworld, translating our collective misery into something vaguely useful—if not for ourselves, then at least for the next poor sod who thinks a “minor urinary inconvenience” sounds better than dying.

Tears are welcome, Graybeard. Just don't forget to bill them under "hydration therapy."

With grizzled gratitude,
Hans