Zélie Martin sat upright in the chair of the doctor’s office on that never-to-be-forgotten day in October 1876. She waited patiently for his verdict. Without raising his eyes, the doctor cleared his throat and began writing out a prescription. He said, “Madame, what you have is a tumor.”“Please be direct with me, doctor. What is the use of the prescription?”“Really, no use at all,” admitted the doctor.“Will an operation help me?”“I’m afraid not, Madame. We have diagnosed you too late....