Cancer tales 6: The cocktail of delay
© Dr. Sujeet Kumar How many times I need to tell you to call the doctor, yelled the mother. Father reluctantly picked up his bicycle from the front yard of his semi-pucca house and paddled it to another part of the village and stopped in front of a house. The house was a double-story designer house with high fencing and iron gate – only one such in the village. He banged the Iron Gate somewhat loudly. Realizing the loud thud of iron he toned down his next two knocks on the door. After every knock, he peeped through the grilled…