The argument is that recovery from depression is not possible. American doctors have never seen it. African, Indian, Chinese and Navajo gurus, mothers and shamans have failed to produce an elegant checker box survey of results. You really need a three-month double-blind study of thirty MediAid patients needing a room to get in out of the rain. So, if USC wastes money on heavy steroids to allow the liver not to be rejected, I will sink into gross despair, kill myself and waste the $350,000 provided by a medical investment company to save worthy American citizens. But I kind of think I have avoided a bomb. Could I trust a medical pro with a knife and a second-hand liver whose primary interest in me is his career and the financing on the school bill? My healers tell me the liver can be restored. I have not met a single kind academic on the Keck USC Transplant Team. Our Medical Schools so frown on people who can use both logic and compassionate imagination. Thinkers can be such stinkers. Better to robot. Cut and laser with precision. I look at the offering as snake oil. I am my own experiment. Snake oil was a powerful medicine brought in by the Chinese who worked on the Western Railroads. It got a terrible reputation after European pharmaceutical salesmen counterfeited it. I’m foggy. My life is beautiful. I am exhausted and suffering terribly. I love the dance. I love my friends. I love my art. My life is beautiful. I am dying. Aren’t you?