But what John just came home to tell me is, that I have stopped responding to my treatment. I'm going to die. ''I'm sorry, Baby,'' John says. He put...his head in his hands and sits on the end of the bed by my feet. I come up behind him, wrapping my arms round his neck, just breathing him in, because he makes me feel so alive. He sighs and puts his hands over top of mine. ''There is nothing you could have done,'' I say to him, comforting. He doesn't seem convinced. He seems like he wants to. As always please remember this is ‘A NOVEL.’ *Note: I informed you several chapters ago that this story could take off into the realm of Science and Science Fiction. Much of this story is developed from Factual Science, although I have taken many liberties with it, and expanded the truth liberally. If you read this story in 25 years, most of this will be ‘OLD NEWS’. If you are laughing at me at this moment, remember I am laughing at you. I have done the research before putting fingers to. More

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