What to do with a Death Sentence.

Psychology says that there are five stages of knowing your going to die: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

At the time I found out about the liver disease, I was more agnostic than Jewish. And I went flying into denial and anger for a good two years. What made me wake up was a fellow death sentencee.

The first thing I did was get really drunk (hay it was my 21st b-day). Within a year I had dropped out of collage and moved out with my best friend. In order to do that I had to get a better job so I started working for 7-11 as a night clerk. And worked both jobs for six months. By which time my "friend" had screwed my over and I was back at home.

While at 7-11 I developed a motto: No one out at 2 in the morning is sane. That would include me. So a year or so goes by and I find myself at a store near a strip club and a slum. I was exploring new age beliefs at the time and had already found the BS factor in Buddhisms. In walks this 60 year old man with a rope for a belt and Einsteiny hair.
We start talking and I find out he's had a masters in psychology. His name was Sal or Sol I was never sure which, and he was dieing of bone spurs that are growing into his brain stem. So he was going to die he just didn't know when. Even suckier that me.

One night I got really mad at something and slammed on the cash register and broke it. Sal was there and said he could fix it so I moved the money over to the one that worked and he fixed it. Latter that same week I did something else stupid and he looked at me and said, "You know for some one so smart you are really stupid!"

He went on to explain that I really needed to talk with some body about what was going on because I was going to lose it if I didn't. And if I wanted I could talk to him. So I did. By the time I left that store and Sal's life, I had accepted my situation and come to understand I was really angry with God.