Death be not . . . afraid?

Lately in talking to others about my circumstances, I find it fascinating how people respond to the concept of dying, or fail to respond. It is almost a knee-jerk reaction, when I say that I am sick, and dying, the question is how long, 2 years, 6 years, who knows. I get back immediately "don't say that" "you're not dying" "you look too healthy to die" "they're coming up with new stuff all the time, they'll save you," and so on. People seem so uncomfortable with death, with being okay with dying, and worse, to not fighting the good fight against cancer. They seem to expect me to say that I'll fight this, as if it is a fight that can be fought, and to suffer through it. The worst is from people who don't have cancer, and sometimes even from people who have it or have had it, but not those with ovarian cancer. We know the reality and live with it every day. At 53, no matter whether science improves tremendously the next two years, I will not make it to 80 years old. That is reality. I will be lucky to make it to 60. I hope that time is in reasonably good health so I can still travel. But I am in reality and ok with it. Life is life. Maybe I've learned all the lessons I need to learn and on my way out I need to teach a little more.