My mother would be surprised that I did not die alone.
And that, in the end, about 25 people had volunteered to take care of me when I couldn't do that for myself anymore.
It's one thing, after you find out you're going to die from metastatic colorectal cancer, to ask people to bring your favorite kind of Gatorade. It's quite another to ask them to stand in the place of DNA-sharing family and walk through hospice with you, but that's what I had to do.
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