"Live every day like it's your last. Some day, you'll certainly be right."
That's what I kept telling myself. I don't say it as much anymore, though. I continue to live by that motto but I don't find myself uttering the words that often.
Being active and doing dangerous things was my life, my everything. Because of that motto, I had the courage to do things that most ponies are afraid to. I felt like I was choosing my destiny. I was taking control of how my life would end. I felt powerful, brave, happy, all of those emotions flowed right through my core and made me do what I've done.
Me and a few of my buddies took a sky-diving excursion from Cloudsdale. They had to practically drag me out of my house to go. Even though I had that motto, I wasn't willing to try sky-diving. Eventually I stopped my struggling and went along with them to the hot-air balloon. We were greeted by two pegasi and a unicorn, I can't remember their names. The unicorn had cast a spell on us so we could stand on the clouds while we prepared our gear. The ride up took about ten minutes from the time the flame started roaring until we hopped off. It's a shame that pegasi can't experience the thrill of falling the same way us earth ponies can. Pegasi have wings and they're taught to fly at an early age. Their fears are assuaged very early on. Us earth ponies don't have the ability to fly and we're adults that are still afraid. It's funny how that works.
I strapped my chute onto my back and had my friend, Sparkler, check it. He gave me the 'OK' and I approached the edge of the cloud. I looked over and my heart almost jumped right out of my mouth. We must have been at least a thousand feet in the air probably more, but to my brain, one thousand feet was the most it could comprehend.
My friends saw my anxiety and asked if I wanted to go through with it. After a few deep breaths to clear my thoughts, I turned to them and said,
"Live every day like it's your last. Some day, you'll certainly be right!"
And I jumped. Even though I had a parachute, jumping off that cloud could have been the end of me. I could have backed down or embraced the chance that I might die.
I embraced it.
I leaped over the edge and I can easily recall the sensation. The wind rushing past my face, my mane and tail rustling like windsocks, and the adrenaline-boosting jolt when my chute opened. I lived that day like it was my last. I never thought though that it would be.
When my friends came down to congratulate me, I was having the time of my life. They all cheered me on and told me how brave I was. We went to Canterlot that night and had drinks at the Twisted Horseshoe, it was my treat. I wanted to thank them for, I guess, forcing me to go in the beginning.
I ordered a mug of hard cider and we began telling each other about our experiences. Everypony was laughing at how scared they were and when I took a sip of my cup, I couldn't keep the cider down because I was laughing. I coughed it up back into my cup and what I saw sent my heart down into my stomach.
There was a thick, crimson liquid swirling around the cup. I let it slip out of my hooves and onto the floor. I began coughing more and more. Becoming more violent each time.
They rushed me to the hospital. Everyone was worried, but not in a full blown panic. None of us thought that it was what it was. After waiting in the examination room, a doctor came in with a clipboard and a troubled look on his face. I remember what he said clear as day. How could I forget the sentence,
"Mr. Buckwheat. I'm sorry but your test results came back positive. Sir, you have lung cancer."
I remember how I stared at him with the blankest of expressions and asked, "How long do I have?"
"I'd say about a couple months, maybe less. It's hard to be sure. Again, I'm sorry. We will do everything we can to make sure you're comfortable. During treatment."
They shaved off my mane. I liked my mane. It's a shame but I guess that's one of those things that I would have wanted to do before I die anyway.
I've been stuck in this bed for about a month and a half now. Chemotherapy is absolute hell, the food is terrible, and doctors keep asking me questions and wont leave me the hell alone! It sucks. Sucks worse than this disease.
It's hard to breathe. They put that little hose-thing in my nose so I could breathe easier at least. It's painful though. Heh, I guess that's what I get. Natural consequences swing back ten times worse than what you did to deserve them. I smoked, I get this.
I've been all over the place. I've been to Ponyville, the Crystal Empire, Manehatten, Appleoosa, Mustangia, Las Pegasus, Baltimare, you name it. I've lived a full life. It's all thanks to that little motto that I hold close to myself and live by. You gotta live each day like it's your last. You've got to put your heart into everything you do. If you've done a good job, you'll have a lot of things to say you've done before the day where you're right and it is your last.
There's only a few things left on my list. Unfortunately, I don't think that I'll be able to date a nurse, darn. I could always try to see how many presses of the emergency button it takes before the doctors get mad at a terminal stallion? That sounds like fun.
