When faced with the unthinkable, Michael Dorgan had to figure out a way to cope.
When told I had metastatic cancer, I felt jerked from the stream of life like a fish on a hook. Everyone else went on with their daily routines as I watched from the waiting room of eternity. My life was ending and that filled me with dread.
Gradually, I settled on a two-pronged strategy for dealing with my rare form of cancer, which has no known cure. I’d do everything I could to stay alive while making peace with the idea of dying. Those two goals might seem in conflict, but I believed I needed to come to terms with death because living in fear of it would both weaken my ability to restrain the cancer and poison what time I had left.
Now, six years after being diagnosed, my hopes of surviving my cancer have dimmed. Yet I remain hopeful, at least hope-half-full. With help from my doctors, I may be able to keep it in check for months, even years, of quality living. If I can’t have that, I prefer to die. My purpose in life is not simply to drag it out as long as possible.