In the back of my mind since that fateful day of March 7 when I found out that I had cancer has been the possibility of dying. While my oncologist has been positive about the outcome of my treatment since the cancer was found in an early stage, the idea of my death has continued to bounce around in my head.
Dying is not something that is on my mind a lot, but it sits there in the back of my brain and makes itself known when I try to put my head down to sleep. During the day as I go about my treatment and my pastoral work, the thought of dying doesn’t even cross my mind. In fact, I stay abnoxiously positive about beating this crap whereby I virtually ignore talking about the cancer in my body. Everyone I know tells me that I things are going to be OK, including my doctors, and I readily and publicly agree.
But then there are the times when I am in bed, trying to go to sleep, when the dormant death thoughts pop up and say, “What will happen if you don’t wake up?”