Brent

I called Brent in Scarborough, today. His cancer is terminal. I asked him how his treatment was going, and he said it was going well but, you know, the kind i have is terminal, so i'll get worse, they'll treat me and put it off for a while, then i'll get worse again, and so on. Only towards the end will things get bad, but i may have years still, he said.

"It", he called death.