Is there ever a good time to die?

Okay guys - this is a real conversation about dieing. I'm not being scary or depressed or anything else - I'm just talking to you like I would if you were sitting here in my kitchen. These days I find myself compelled to think about my possible departure. Ideally one would like to die at the ripe old age of 99 sleeping peacefully in our beds after a full rewarding pain free life. My Dana says he wants to die going down the highway on his bike at 90 miles an hour having sex. (For the record, this is the one time he has my permission to cheat on me.) But the point is everyone has an idea of where and when they'd like to go. The the reality is...you seldom get to vote on it. You unexpectedly check out on your way to the ballot box.

Last Friday I went to see the cardiologist for an echo and afterwards he said that I had recovered very well all things considered and that I seem to be doing fine. (But......)
He went on to say that although no one could say for sure, he felt I had come as far as I was going to and that the rest of my life I will have to work hard to maintain where I am.
THUD! I have to admit I was expecting better news than that.

Don't get me wrong - I know how lucky I am and I don't take away from my progress one bit but the truth is, I still feel sick. Granted, not like I did five months ago but I'm still exhausted and I keep having these premature heartbeats. (There's a fancy word for them but I have forgotten it).

The exhaustion is bad enough but these heartbeats are very disturbing. I have been assured they are non life threatening but that doesn't help to be honest. The only way I can describe them is to compare them to that uncomfortable feeling that shoots through your chest when you've had a bad scare. You know the one, the feeling you get when the phone rings at 3am or when a car swerves into your lane head on. The feeling that you later describe by saying "I thought I was going to have a heart attack".

So here's the interesting thing...

Some days life seems bleak. I have to be honest with you. There are times when I think about the fact that I am the youngest in my family and there is a good chance under normal conditions I would out live my sisters and my Dana. That combined with the fact that now I have no child or grandchildren makes me despair over my aging process. The very real possibility that I would go away to a nursing home with no family left to watch out for me is not very appealing to me.
And the funny thing is, I obsess about what my death would do to Dana and my sisters. I don't want to bring any more pain into Dana's life but its exhausting staying alive for other people.
So consequently there are times when I "think" I don't care if I live or not. But....
...during this weekend I had lots and lots of those irregular heartbeats and I found myself saying over and over and over..."don't die, don't die, not yet..."

Today I went to work and drug myself through the day and thought "This is a bullshit way to live - its too hard and too unrewarding." And then I got home and there on the kitchen table was a "Biker Bouquet" if ever I saw one. Three carnations, one red, one yellow and one deep pink and a red rose stuck unceremoniously in a milk bottle.

And I smiled and decided I'd go ahead and live a while longer.