“The stifling atmosphere of Ed Izma's room was still within him as he lay back and the technician aimed the contraption at his chest. Hess wondered if the radiation could kill the sickness of Izma's soul that had surely gotten into him. The doctors had told Hess it was intended to "clean up" any small cell carcinomas residing in his lymph system. If they'd found any there during his operation, they'd have sewed him shut and he'd be dead in half a year. They'd found nothing, but the radiation cam...e heavily recommended. It was painless and took about thirty seconds. But the radiologist told Hess that the side effects—fatigue, hair loss, appetite drop, insomnia, gastrointestinal upset—built up over time and he'd feel a whole lot worse after six weeks of daily treatments than he did right now. "If you guys don't kill me I don't see how a little cancer will," he said. The radiologist smiled serenely. "We're doing everything we can, Detective." To kill me or save me, Hess wondered as he made his way back through the waiting room • • • Back home he called Barbara, certain that he wanted to say things, uncertain what they were.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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