My brother-in-law Scott Trockman died from cancer in Boston a few days ago. Nearly everyone who knew him thought he would beat this, partly because he was so young, but also because he bravely suffered in silence and didn’t want to worry and frighten everyone else. My wife and I did not know his cancer was terminal until almost the end, but even his mother, a doctor of internal medicine who cared for him in her house, was surprised at how suddenly and rapidly his condition worsened.
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He spent his last few days in a hospice where he was comfortable, though not always conscious, and surrounded by people who loved him.
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