The winds are changing, and George McMahon can feel it in his bones. His ashen face takes on a pained expression as he peers out the window of his Lake Palestine home, watching the tops of the tall pines bend to the bluster of an approaching rainstorm. It's not as though he needs confirmation this February morning. His body is a barometer of pain, a crippled marker of a lifetime of missteps by a medical establishment that was trying to figure out what the hell... More >>>