Your hole or mine

On July 4th I had another seizure. I was taken to the emergency room and then admitted to the hospital to recover. They put me in a room on the cancer ward in a room by myself (as is usual). When I was able to get up and around I left my room and headed down the hall in search of a cup of coffee. As I left my room I looked at the guy across the hall and he was just laying there staring at the ceiling. When I asked the nurse what was wrong with him I was told he was in the final stage of pancreatic cancer and would probably die in a few days. A few days later, at work, it hit me that that poor guy was going to die with the vision of holes in a ceiling as his last sight. I don't want to go that way. You can throw me of the side of the Grand Canyon or leave me in the middle of Death Valley at sunset. Whatever. Just not holes in the ceiling.