I think that dying might bring about a profound loneliness. I don’t feel lonely in life, but I do think this would be a very hard discovery at the end. Assuming there might be a time of consciousness, I think that serious medication might be a help. Not to put me out, but to smooth things over. The last time I had surgery, the anesthesiologist visited me in Recovery and gave me a sheet of paper on which was listed all of the drugs he had administered. I was glad to get it after the surgery, since I went down the list thinking, That’s what killed Michael Jackson, that’s what killed Prince. I don’t take recreational drugs, never did, but I would like to have the option of taking the edge off of fear. People I love at my bedside—I don’t see that being a comfort, but a reminder of who I’ll be losing. Music might be welcome. I could imagine wanting to hear Jorma Kaukonen sing “Genesis.”

That’s the point. I don’t have to achieve today. For an over-achiever that would be quite an unusual day. But there would be mental photographs taken of dear friends and family so that I could create a virtual reality of them wherever I was going.

To be honest, if it was my last day on Earth doing any type of work would probably be the last thing on my mind. So I don’t think there would be any professional endeavours on the last day on Earth. But, I’ve been to the North Pole so you might as well throw in the South Pole. Gotta check out the South Pole.

It would definitely involve lots of sex. I would spend the afternoon having some crazy passionate declarative sex with my husband.