Your Test Results are Normal

So a few days later I learn that my test results are normal. Everything is okay, except for that there are nights that I wake up sweating so horribly that you would have thought I just ran across a blazing hot bed of coals in one of those space blankets while I was holding on to some of those hot hands hand warmers and while I was on the equator. Yes, everything is just fine.

I must say that it hasn't happened in about two or three weeks, but that's how it goes. Believe me, I don't want anything to be wrong with me. I am (hopefully) not one of those people who "has that." I don't want "that." I don't want anything, let alone "that." You can insert what ever medical condition you'd like for "that."

See, when you fear dying the way that it scares me, the last thing that I want is something that would bring me anywhere closer to death, although I haven't always lived my life that way. I guess I am one of those people who wants to be in control of what kills them. The best way to die? In my sleep... I could only be so lucky. The worst way to die? Anything slow and painful whether through disease or disaster.

No sir, not looking forward to dying. Although my faith is strong, I still struggle with the death of my body. Where will life's journey take me? Fluffy clouds or hot coals? Who will I see? Will I see everyone I have ever loved? Will we all hang around together, each in our own relative dimension? Will I see my father in his office? Will he see me looking out the window of the Corvette that I never saw him in? Will my Grandma Dorothe have a truly endless supply of Chop Suey and Coca-Cola for me in her kitchen in Louisville while she looks at me from her kitchen in San Francisco? Will I meet my Great-Grandmother Nancy... will she be Nancy or Anastazya?