On the One Hand...

Why Dying of Stage Four Cancer Beats Choking to Death on a Piece of Chicken

No one wants to die a slow, painful, debilitating death of an incurable disease and there's nothing funny about it. Still, dying of stage four cancer beats choking to death on a piece of chicken because:

You get to say your Thank you's, I love you's, please forgive me's, and all the other important stuff before it's too late.

Get to plan your own funeral: food, music, transportation, accommodations, attire, master of ceremonies, and program.

Can ghost write your own eulogy.

Can do all those things you wanted to do but were too chicken to such as:

Sky dive, health permitting. (What the heck, do it anyway! What's the worst that can happen?)

Tell the wait staff, admin. person, coworker, etc., what you really think of them or want to do with or to them.

Eat all the salty, high cholesterol, buttery, deep fired, greasy, lardy, yummy delicious foods you always enjoyed but avoided due to fear of high blood pressure, diabetes, arteriosclerosis, stroke, or cancer.

Eat ice cream, candy, or beer for breakfast.

It's okay to gain weight!

No problem losing weight!

Score big macho points 'cause there's no tougher battle. My brother-in-law's mom took only an occasion acetaminophen for pain during her long, losing battle against cancer. I asked why? He said, "She just felt it was enough." She was a quiet, unassuming lady. Never met anyone tougher.

Get to see loved ones cry on your behalf.

Chance to make peace with your maker or find one or "something more."

Get to say big,wise things like actress Debra Winger in the excellent Shadowlands. Dying of cancer, she insists that talking about her impending death while she is stall able to enjoy life is preferable because, "the pain then is part of the happiness now." She was also in the excellent Terms of Endearment. She died of cancer in that one, too. (Note: The characters portrayed, not the actress, died of cancer. I think. She was just sooo convincing.)

Can flirt with the nurses with impunity. My seventy year old father-in-law did this during his last few months battling cancer; said, "After I win the lottery, we'll run off to Macao." It made them laugh.

For those addicted to, into, or curious about Vicodin, can get it and other powerful prescription pain killers.

Get 24-hour room service and central A/C once checked into the hospital.

Have time to contemplate your life, death, past, and present. There's time to attain a quiet acceptance.

Time to watch TV, read, write, work, and do all those things you promised yourself you'd do if you just had the time.

Time to place affairs in order.

Time to make things up with family members and make new, happy memories.

Opportunity to hug and kiss loved ones and say goodbye.

Time to instruct and pass down wisdom and advice to kids or whoever.

Time to state your last wishes.

Time to change mind about your last wishes. My grandfather, another cancer victim, first wanted to be buried, then later changed his mind and chose cremation, probably due to changes in beliefs about the afterlife as it related to his remains.

Time to catch up on the Z's.

Circumstances encourage learning what's really important in life—not job, status, money, ego, nor possessions—but love, family, friendships, being good, helping others, doing one's best, and doing something worthwhile, health permitting.

Time to write or rewrite will, letters, memoirs, or poetry.

Opportunity to make a lasting impression on the world because people listen to those on the verge of death.

Chance to realize the brevity of life and wonder, Where did all the time go?

Chance to realize the brevity of life for everyone, regardless of age and health.

Chance to cherish and be grateful for remaining time, something we all should do.