Six Months To Live

Not many people can truly understand and appreciate the effect of finding out that you have six months or less left to live.

People naturally have this internal assumption that “I’m not going to die today.” In fact, until they reach the geriatric years, that assumption grows into “I’m not going to die for years and years.”

While it’s true that a good many people die every day without having any warning, there are also a decent number who are very aware of their situation and their failing mortality. I think there are pro’s and con’s to both situations.

The first group of people, those who die suddenly and without warning is probably the easiest way for the dying person. They don’t have to spend days or weeks or months worrying or trying to get better. They simply die.

This is probably the way that is hardest on surviving friends and family though. They may have a hard time believing what happened and may have never had a chance to say goodbye.

The second group of people, those who find out in advance that they only have a certain amount of time left, are left to ponder their fate. Yet they have something that the first group doesn’t have; they have time and opportunity to tie up loose ends and perhaps to even take care of unfinished business.

Yesterday I was listening to the radio and heard about a married couple who were in the second group of people. The husband was diagnosed with heart disease and the wife got breast cancer. They both had less than a year to live.

They had a decent amount of money in their savings, and decided that they soon wouldn’t need it that they should try and accomplish their list of all the things they had ever wanted to do.

With $50,000 they went on an African safari, a trip to the Caribbean, a trek through Europe, and other adventures.

During this time they were also being treated for their illnesses. As the time of their departure came ever closer, they were told that they had more time. Both of their infirmities had been taken care of.

Although they were very grateful to all the doctors who had treated them, they were convinced that the main reason that they got better was because of how they had been living for the previous year. Their outlook on life was changed, they were living healthier, and they were constantly finding things in life that fascinated them and gave them reason to stay around a bit longer.

This made me wonder what I would do if I was given news like that. I really have no money anywhere to go and see the world (nor anyone to go see it with now that I think about it). But there are a handful of people that I care a lot about that I think I’d like to spend a lot of time with in order to make up for what wouldn’t come later.

Better yet, I could just win the lottery now while I’ve still (probably) got some time left and I could do some things and help some people and improve my life before I would be in a position to hear of my impending death.

For real though, if I ever find out I’m dying I am NEVER getting stuck in rush hour again. I’ll drive down the shoulder or run people off the road or whatever. And I’ll get a bumper sticker made that says “Fuck you. I’m dying, running out of time, and you’re in my way.”
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I know I haven’t written in here in 20 days, which I think is the longest I haven’t written since I started my diary. In all honesty, I just haven’t been inspired to write anything.

Way back in my first or second entry I said that although this is my diary, it’s a public one. Therefore, I will always try and make my entries interesting or readable or something, and won’t just list the events of my day or week as many do. I’ve always done that, but I can’t force myself to come up with things that fit my criteria, and so I haven’t written.

Maybe I’m back now. Maybe this is just a sporadic little burp in my mental indigestion. I dunno. Guess time will tell.

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“One day I’ll be grown up
You’ll still be in my head
I’ll be all broken up
And left to rot in bed
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One day I’ll panic
Think that I was never good
And think of all of the things
I woulda coulda should
*
One day I’ll not wake up
One day I’ll be gone
The last thing you’ll hear from me
Are the verses of this song
*
One Day
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One day I won’t smoke
Three packs of cigarettes
Cause I’ll have things to be happy about
And discard my regrets
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One day I’ll call you
Allow all the truths
Even though it’s much too late
And all the points are moot
*
One day I won’t wake up
With a head full of cement
Knowing I must’ve got kicked out
Of every place that I went
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One day
It’ll be different
One day
It will change
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