Ironically, his fingers looked like cigarette butts. They were black and chalky at the tips and then tan through his knuckles to his hands. A couple was capped by long yellow fingernails, shooting out like stalks of hay, bending in different directions.
A few other fingertips had already fallen off, leaving behind stumps he could barely flex or wave.
I sat down and asked what he knew about his disease.
“I’ve Googled it,” …