Soon he’d taught himself to read patients’ records upside down. Again and again he read stories of patients who hadn’t been cured by standard chemotherapy, or by repeated retreatment with first-line drugs. He’d saunter out of the health centers, then drive as fast as he could to the Socios office in Carabayllo, a concrete building that belonged to Father Jack’s church, now named the Father Jack Roussin Center. He’d hurry inside, sit down at his computer, and type up what he’d read, in e-mails addressed exclusively to Farmer and Kim.
do the ridiculous whatever it is, in the moment. the sense doesnt come until later
