answers are his favorites. “This, by the way,” I said, still irritated, “is completely idiotic, okay? I love you.” It’s never a bad idea to include these words in case he might think being sick is a barrier to love. I wasn’t sure he heard me with his Bluetooth in. “That’s good,” he said. “You can’t let that genie out of the bottle though, Lawrence.” He is on guard against all sentimentalities, being patronized, any melodrama or matters of the heart—which he hates and can be cruel about. Since we’ve been at Mayo he has begun calling me Lawrence, for Lawrence Nightingale. “It’s a cunning stunt,”
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