About 18 years ago I was asked to do a favor for my boss. She had a friend who had an intense manifestation of Lupus, but despite all the difficulties she endured, this woman continued to go to school and was at the time working toward her P.H.D. She (I'll call her Linda) needed help with desktop publishing and the layout of her thesis (entitled Perceptions of Death and Dying.)
Linda and I sat side-by-side for quite a few hours as we worked on her document. We shared many a philosophical discussion regarding people's fears of death and dying. I remember clearly deciding that it was worthless to fear or worry about inevitable death, but instead had plenty of fear regarding the unknown of HOW it would happen.
That fear of HOW it will come about still stays with me today. The first way that pops up in my mind is I don't want to be one of those people who have a coronary whilst sitting on the pot involved in a rather extreme BM. I am sure this IS the way it will be only because i don't want it to be so.
Another fear was that I would drive off the side of one of those high-in-the-sky single-lane overpasses. Years ago I had a front tire blowout while driving on one of those ramps. I managed to maintain control and get safely to the side. That day almost completely dispelled my fear of dieing with that MO.
It is along these lines that at the ripe old age of 21 I came upon one of Vonneguts books that had contained within its pages a suicide booth. A place one could go to comfortably die when they felt damn good and ready to do so. I have thought him to be a genius ever since.
I'm not sure where this was going...but had to write it down anyway.
In retrospect, I should probably add that I am NOT ready to go just yet :)