Usually, the news out of Florida makes me feel like being black in Florida can be a terminal condition.
Now he had recognized himself as a dead man it became important to stay alive as long as possible.
She had been dying so long that I had almost come to regard her as immortal.
No one wants to live in a wheelchair unable to talk, only winking once for yes and twice for no. It's perfectly reasonable that there will come a point where the balance of judgment of life over death swings the other way.
Beware the short terminal guy with nothing to lose.
I know people who have had near-death experiences or who have experienced terminal illness and come through the other side.
A man with an excruciatingly painful condition wrote me and told me that his doctor said that the only cure for what he has is death, and he might want to consider suicide. What do you say to him? I doubt the, "Hey let's go get some coffee and talk" thing is going to be at all helpful.
Life is a sexually transmitted disease and the mortality rate is one hundred percent.
Death is very, very terminal.
My dad was in a wheelchair and on oxygen for the last few years of his life.
I was going to die and it was taking forever.
I probably have another two or three years. Or I can pass tomorrow, but it doesn't make a difference to me.
It's death, that's what I'm suffering from. The systematic encroachment of the big D.
My bones are brittle, my heart weak and erratic, my esophagus and stomach riddled with ulcers, my reproductive system shot, my immune system useless... I'm not going to have a happy ending.
If I learnt anything at all about terminal illness in my research, it's that the experience is different for everyone. I do believe that life becomes concentrated when it's boundaried and that death is the biggest boundary of all.
