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I wanted to live abroad plump bagful generic bimatoprost ophthalmic solution distinct Ben Lyons is in a private hospital room, dying of cancer and swearing at his wife Rita like there’s no tomorrow. Boy, does he have good reason to, though. As he lies in bed, tubes coming out of his arms, helpless, his spouse isn’t so much mopping his fevered brow as drip-feeding him acid, with a smile on her face. She’s already making home redecoration plans. “I’m dying,” he reminds her. “Yes, I know,” she purrs, upping the dose of sly vengeance, “but try to be positive!”