I watched Deadpool recently. Good movie – I recommend it. If you haven’t watched it, and don’t want spoilers, stop reading this. Because it’s about to get spoiler-y.
As all who’ve watched know, the main character finds out he has terminal, stage four cancer. He’s put into shock and can’t focus on anything other than his fiancee’s beautiful face. His fiancee starts laying down a plan with the doctor. In her mind, something’s got to make it better.
In his mind, this is it.
And thus comes the superhero story. Deadpool’s crazy actions are a result of his cancer – I saw it as his desperate plea since he believed nothing else matters anymore. It’s obviously a made-up scenario, but the plot got me thinking.
Mix in the fact that I’ve finally been watching Breaking Bad, who’s main character also gets terminal cancer, and I’ve been asking myself: what would I do if I knew I was going to die?
The way I see it, there are four options:
- Concoct madness – An obvious option, as it’s what our Deadpool protagonist chose to do. Would you try to deform/recreate your body in a laboratory? Start selling drugs, getting rich and building an empire? Burn down the home of your worst enemy? I believe everyone has a deep yearning to do at least ONE thing that goes completely against societal rules and laws, and this may just be the time to let your freak flag fly.
- Fill out the bucket list – A little more innocent, but this could be seen as madness in itself. Go cliff diving. Swim in the Great Barrier Reef. Climb Mount Rushmore. Visit Europe. Visit Asia. Search for a long lost family member. Hell, learn Spanish. Do anything and everything you wanted while you still get the chance.
- Go into a deep depression – Lose all hope and energy as you know your timely demise is coming. Lay in bed. Maybe enjoy the occasional Netflix binge. What’s the point? What was the point of it all?
- Nothing – Sometimes what a person needs to function through the day (or rest of their days) is a simple sense of normality. Even if your world is crashing down, pretend like it’s not, and then just maybe will you make it during your eight-hour workday without a breakdown. Rinse the mind. Repeat.
I’d like to think that I would throw myself into #2, being adventurous and bucket-listing until my slowing heart couldn’t take it anymore.
And another part of me thinks I might just go home to my parents, enjoying my days of lounging with my dog and loved ones before it’s all gone.
But overall, the whole me (who hopefully has a countless number more years to live) is thinking about how much life there is to live, how many choices there are to make. And how little of it all I’ve experienced.