Notes on Observing the Fear of Death

As a hospice doctor, I have seen all kinds of fear of death.

There was a mother who frantically stockpiled cheap frozen meat and stuffed it on her daughter, unable to stop worrying about feeding her even after death;

There was a tough man who tore up his will and cursed at his caregiver, with an abyss of helplessness beneath his armor of anger;

There was a scholar who spoke at length about philosophy, only to admit on his deathbed that all he feared was nothingness.

Then a shadow appeared on my brain tumor CT scan.

It turned out that every page of the "typology of death anxiety" I had calmly documented was quietly compensating for my own trembling.

When my ribs broke during resuscitation, I finally heard the scream in my chest, silenced for years by professional composure.