Pains in the left side of my chest make me realize how unprepared I am to die. Could it be my heart? Because I worked too hard? Or the cholesterol from eating four eggs every morning for the past month? Everything I’m working on suddenly seems pointless. Why continue working if I’m going to die soon? 

Well, what did I think? That I was going to live forever? As a kid, I remember being afraid of death. I would lie awake alone in bed and think about it. But it was only an abstract concept then. These pains in my chest feel real. 

I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for next week. Maybe they’ll tell me I’m alright. But what if I still feel the pains? Maybe they’ll tell me it really is something, but nothing serious. I’ll take a pill and go back to being young and alive. Or maybe it really will be something like heart disease. I try to imagine what it would be like for the doctor to tell me that. I guess I’m already thinking of it now so maybe I won’t be so surprised. I try not to think about it because I worry that somehow I’ll think it into existence, but I feel the pains and then my mind starts and I eventually get to thinking about terminal disease and death. 

But it will happen sooner or later. I might as well learn how to deal with it now. That way, even if the doctor does tell me it’s benign, then I’ll have the training for when something is inevitable malignant. 

I’ve done a lot of living and learned about all sorts of things but I know nothing about dying. I’ve lived as much as I can without knowing about death. If I learn about death and face it honestly then maybe we can shake hands and have an agreement and then I’ll be able to live without having to worry about when it might sneak up. When it comes, I’ll know it. We’ll both honor our agreement and that will be that.