I Run The Local Death Cafe
Published in
2 min read6 days ago
It started with being told I had five years to live. I was ill with a heart disease. Residents came to my room and we chatted in hushed voices at night about what the future might look like — and how much future might be left. I’d been admitted after turning blue at an ultramarathon I was participating in and kept for observation, seeing all sorts of medical professionals who were curious about my case.
