Maybe The Grim Reaper Is Not So Grim After All

Of all the places to experience an epiphany, I never expected it to be on the floor of my gym, while doing floor exercises. Especially when it concerns my own death, with all the baggage that has always been connected to that future event. I suppose I expected trumpets blaring or melodramatic music at least in the background and not the sounds of "It's raining men." But while the men were raining, there I was contemplating my own demise and for the first time ever, it just did not seem to be that horrible of an event. Now I don't normally contemplate my own demise, so maybe a little background is in order.

Up until last year I smoked cigarettes and had been doing so since I was 16 years old. I grew up when cigarettes were bold and cool (think Virginia Slims or the Marlboro Man) and it seemed that almost everyone smoked, including both of my parents. Being young and foolish I thought I wanted to be like them and so I started smoking. I continued this practice, for the next 34 years, until Stephen and I decided, last November to quit the nasty habit. But the damage from cigarettes had already been done.

Over the years I have had increasingly difficult bouts of pneumonia and bronchitis and each time it takes longer and longer to recover from these illnesses. For those of you who have never experienced pneumonia, it's one of those diseases that you can be cured of in a matter of weeks, but it can take months to actually recover from the disease. So when I got pneumonia at the Holidays, I steeled myself for the long road of recovery and figured by summer I would be fine. I figured wrong.

So here I am, mid-June and I just got over another bacterial lung infection that thankfully did not develop into pneumonia, but it still wreaked havoc with my lungs. I initially had it for a couple of weeks, without really knowing it, until my lungs started to wheeze, which is never a good sign. Once my ID doc listened to my lungs, he started me on Ketek (telithromycin) that is a new, really heavy-duty, broad-spectrum antibiotic. It kicked the crap out of the infection and within 3 days I was beginning to feel pretty good. I still could not breath without wheezing, but at least I knew the infection was being destroyed. And being forever the good patient, I waited another day, before I just had to get out of the house and get some exercise.

On my way to the gym, I'm still wheezing and breathing like I am under water, but I know that it is just temporary and how good exercise makes me feel and how I really need to get my lungs working again. While I might be a fool to try roller blading so soon after this infection, I figure "how bad can a few floor exercises be?" To quote one of my favorite Gilda Radner characters, Rosann Rosanna Danna: "I thought I was gonna die."

My floor exercises start with my doing a Cobra, which is a stretching exercise and in a way you sort of look like a Cobra, but the point was I had to lay, face down to begin and that just about killed me. So I calmed myself and got through the stretching and then I was ready to start exercising. As I rolled over, onto my back, my lungs seemed to gain weight exponentially. It was like a crushing force on my chest and it would almost burn with each breath I would take. Try as I might, I could not draw a deep breath and a slight panic began to set in. Even sitting up did not help. It seemed that no matter what I did, I was having a really hard time catching my breath.

Over the past years, given my history with lung problems, I just assumed that I would die of some lung related disease, because my HIV no longer seems to be the culprit that will do me in. So I've been here before, gasping for breath and I know not to panic or overreact, but this time it was different.

Even as I struggled to get my breath, I just lay back down and pondered what it would be like if I just died, where I lay. And for the first time ever, it just did not bother me, for it no longer seemed to be something to be dreaded, but something that must eventually be embraced, either willingly or not. For death is the destination toward which all of us are racing and it is one of the few things in life that is inevitable. But where I used to fear the thought of death, this time it just felt like another possible solution to this condition we call life.

Rather than being afraid, I felt calm and even as I wheezed my way through my set, I knew that most probably I was not going to die from doing floor exercises. Yet I must say that it was interesting to savor the moment and to just let the thoughts float through my head of what might happen after I die. I did not concentrate on the realities of my demise and the impact on Stephen, Kate or friends, because this was a sort of dry run and being so, it was safe to just imagine and not contemplate the true sorrow that death always brings to those dear to you.

But the strangest reaction of all was how the thought of death seemed so calm and peaceful to me. No more pills, appointments, illnesses or wheezing lungs. No more wondering about how I was going to die, because it just did not seem to matter any more. There was an eerie peace during this time and all I could finally think was: "what exactly had I feared from death?" I used to think it was the fear of the unknown, but the unknown no longer seemed so foreign. It no longer was something to fear, but in its' own time, something to embrace.

Now before any of you think I have gone off the deep end, or I am harboring suicidal thoughts, no need to worry. I have no intention of leaving this world anytime soon, but now the thought of leaving this world, no longer scares me. Where I used to see death as a horrible unknown, my view has changed. I now see death as something that has beauty, because it will be for each of us, one of the most momentous events that occurs in our lives, second only to our birth.

Strange as it seems, death no longer scares me and I like the feeling. It no longer seems to be the end of life, but rather a continuation. Continuing onto what, I have no idea, but my fear has been replaced with acceptance. I feel like I have come to terms with another facet of life, even if it means the end of it.

Maybe it means that the Grim Reaper is not so grim after all, as often times, perspective is everything. Yesterday my perspective regarding death changed dramatically and it has now become just one less thing to worry about. Granted I'm not looking to die anytime soon, but now it no longer scares me and I like that feeling.

Mother sure never warned me that there would be days like these.