I'm not sure exactly when I began smoking. There were no laws restricting underage smoking when I was young and cigarettes were dirt cheap (a dollar a carton). . . . I have never seen a doctor look more serious. He sat me down and began to take down "some basic data." The second or third thing he asked was whether I smoked. When I answered that I smoked four packs a day, he downed his pencil and told me, "Well, you'll have to cut down before we can even run some tests. That much nicotine in your body can cause any number of symptoms, including the problem you have." So I quit again. So did my wife. . . . "Precancerous," the doctor told me. "You're very lucky you happened to quit smoking your pipe. Cancer of the lip is a real killer. It spreads. Now that you've removed the irritant, that thing on your lip will either turn into full-blown cancer or it will go away. "We can operate right now or, if you've got the stuff to handle it, we can wait and watch. What would you like to do?" I waited and watched. It went away. That was 30 years ago. I've always asked myself what would have happened if I hadn't loved teaching science more than I loved smoking that pipe?


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