"You have one year to live," said the doctor.
"You have stage four lung cancer, and it's incurable. It's because you smoke."
"Uhm… okay," I said.
I wasn't a person who was sentimental about life. I know that everyone's life ends someday — that's just how life works.
I think those who fear death are the ones who have regrets. If you have regrets, you'll always see life in a dark way. Life and death are just two sides of the same coin.
You need to embrace your mistakes and try to make up for them. Only then can you truly live your life to the fullest. Only then can you say, "I've done everything," and have no regrets.
You might know you've done something wrong, yet feel no remorse — that's another way of having no regrets. It's your life, your way of living, and no one can tell you otherwise. Your judgment is the thing you must rely on. Of course, you should consider other people's opinions, but your own judgment matters the most.
If something is going to take your life before you can do any of that… that's just sad. But it isn't your fault. It's simply the circle of life. That's how I see it.
Yet, when I heard what the doctor said, my first thought was, "Is this the end?"
I was nineteen, just finishing high school in Slovakia. I started smoking when I was sixteen. It was my guilty pleasure. I usually smoked with other people — it was a way to connect. I don't think it was wrong, even if it led to cancer. It was simply the way I lived my life.
I had always wondered how I would die. Would it be of old age, or would it happen suddenly — in a car accident, perhaps?
But when I heard the news, I just felt… empty. I didn't feel anything. I only wondered what people would think if I died.
Would I cause them any problems? Would anyone be sad? What should I do to console them?
But now isn't the time to think about these things. I have a year to live, and I need to make it count.
I've never even had a girlfriend, and now I probably never will — I don't want to break anyone's heart.
I'll think about all that later, when I tell my friends and family — which won't be anytime soon.
"Thank you, doctor. I believe you've done everything you could," I said. "Have a nice day."