life is hard and then we get old!
Indeed.
Our (or at least MY) thoughts then move from “
is this going to kill me?...” and
“..am I gonna die?...” to the more
practical “...I need to get this stuff in order ASAP...” and, upon hearing of the death of someone, “
...well, that wouldn't be a bad way to go...” and “...
why the hell would anyone go through MONTHS of debilitating chemo when the 5-year survival rate for THAT disease is only 4%...”
Not that my practicality would continue to reign supreme when my imminent death is the alternative. LOL
[Uncle Joe, a retired fire captain, was living alone and nearing the end of life. He’d fall, work his way to a phone, and call Uncle Sam, and dial 911. FD guys treated him as family. Sam would call John and Charlie, and one would go to the hospital with him as the others locked up the house and gathered his “bug out bag” stuff. He’d do a day at the hospital and get transferred to a SNF. Upon arrival at the SNF, he started demanding release to home. They told him he’d die. He said he didn’t care, he just didn’t want to die in a nursing home, and kept calling Sam, John and Charlie to come get him.
This happened maybe 10-15 times in the last two years of his life. The last time it happened, he was yelling at John.
Joe: Just get me out of this damned place.
John: If you go home, you’ll fall again and hurt yourself and die.
Joe: I don’t care! I want to die at home!
John: Then why do you keep calling 911?
The next time...he didn’t call 911. I guess practicality finally won out over the desire for continued survival.
Also...sarcasm may be a genetical thing, as John was my father.]