I love the Advisor because he makes excuses for me.
"If you want to turn in your application for the UC schools, you need to get it in by the end of this month," he tells me over lunch.
"I don't think with my academic record the way it is now that I could get a transfer," I say.
"Well, you had an undiagnosed illness for many years...the question they're going to be asking themselves and so will [the University] is 'what's the prognosis'?"
"Interesting that you should say that. My mother asked the very same question to the doctors at Stanford during one of our family meetings last time I was there, and you know what they said?"
He hums.
"They said they didn't know."
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