I have finally plucked up the courage to deal with something I had been ignoring for a very long time, and took myself to the doctors this morning. A lump, which had been getting larger over the years, turned out to be a cyst, and nothing more malevolent.
I am not frightened of death. It is just a logical and inevitable part of life. I am not frightened of cancer, so long as it isn't painful. What does bother me is the conversations I would have to have if the diagnosis were bad. It doesn't particularly matter to me whether I die. I am completely unemotional about it. What would matter, though, is how it would affect those few people I have become close to. I still don't know how I would deal with this situation when it is my turn.
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