"I have a fatal disease," he said
I thought I would share that quote with you. You know what that fatal disease is? It’s called LIFE. It will be terminal and I’ll pass when the time comes. I guess that’s why they call it “passing time.”
Source: tanakawho
With every birth there is death. It’s inevitable. I’d like to defeat that fact but I honestly don’t think I can. Sure, I could freeze my body in the hopes that it will get unfrozen someday but since I don’t like cold, I don’t think I’ll go for that. Heehee. I also found out in 8th grade that I’m allergic to formaldehyde. Yes, formaldehyde.
We were on split sessions to ease overcrowding at my school, so when I sat down at my homeroom desk in a science class, the previous students had done dissection and spilled the clear, watery fluid on the desk, leaving it for us underclassmen to clean up. When I sat in my chair, all of a sudden, my eyes started watering to the point of flooding, I raced to the nurse’s office sans hall pass, where it was quickly determined that I was allergic to formaldehyde and I would be unable to any dissections in the future. Lucky me.
But I digress. Since I can’t get embalmed because of my allergy (wait, I think I left my blonde hair color on too long), I decided that when I go, I am going to donate my body to science. I love science strictly as an observer, especially when it comes to sex science but that’s another blog. Hopefully, I’ll make the world a better place even when I’m done with my shell.
But I have no idea when that time will come. I just know it will.
I have a friend who recently got diagnosed with some strange lung disease that the doctor said is fatal. The doctor told him that he has about a year and a half to go and my friend is really depressed about it.
But in a strange way, we have death in common. I have always been one to live each day as if it were your last because you know what? You REALLY have no idea if it is. I mean, people get killed waiting for a bus at a bus stop, thinking that the safety of a 6 inch curb is going to prevent some asshole from jumping it and slicing into them while they are waiting to go to work.
People drive down the highway in their cars, oblivious that the vehicle next to them may have that person’s expiration date invisibly etched onto the side of their car. Or a driver can be listening to their favorite tunes and a concrete construction pipe could roll off the truck in front of them and BLAMO. Game over. On to the next plain without any warning.
Yes, these occurrences really happened. But not to me.
So I live each moment as if it were my last. I ride a motorcycle. I’ve raced hydroplanes. I take chances. I am a risk taker. I appreciate every breath I breathe, every step I take, every time I close my eyes for restful sleep, hoping that the miracle of life will take over when I wake.
I try to share my enthusiasm for life with everyone I know. And those I don’t. I want to share my love of my precious life with my friend with the fatal disease. There is plenty of hard, scientific proof that says that a positive attitude can add years to your life and perhaps in his case, just more time (see, I told you I liked science!). But some people just continue to wallow in sadness and will always be the glum chum to me, no matter if they have days to live or the rest of their life.
So, as they say, live life to the fullest. Go for it on a daily basis… an hourly basis… a breath by breath basis. Appreciate little things, the noise and the peace. Stillness and movement. Seriousness and silliness. Darkness and light.
And when the time comes, you can die happy which to me, is the only way to go.
Now on to my next breath…
