My sense of humor is not always appreciated.
I found out in September that I have stage 4 cancer. I’m only 49 years old and go to the doctor regularly, so it hit me pretty hard. Sure, I was a basket case for a few days, but once the initial shock wore off, I chose to fight until there’s no fight left. You know, “If you’re gonna die, die with your boots on.”
I know the odds aren’t great in my situation, but by God’s grace, I intend to beat this. Even so, the fact still remains that 1 out of 1 people die, so we all face death eventually, cancer or no cancer. Something is going to take each one of us out of here.
I tend to joke around about death and dying (my own, not the death of others) more now. It’s how I cope. People don’t tend to appreciate that very much. I have to watch myself around people sometimes because of that. A few people get it, but most don’t.
I look at it like this: if you parachute out of an airplane and the chute fails, then the backup fails, there’s a good chance the end of the ride is not gonna be pleasant. You can either scream, cry, and dread the sudden stop, or try to enjoy the wind in your face, the rush of the ride, and the scenery along the way. No matter how you handle it, the outcome is largely out of your hands.
You can either laugh or cry, and I choose to laugh.
Happy Thanksgiving. Make it a great one.