Such an absolute tragedy. I hope modern medicine can make large advancements, but I am not holding my breath for any miracles in my lifetime. Still, I couldn't

Such an absolute tragedy. I hope modern medicine can make large advancements, but I am not holding my breath for any miracles in my lifetime. Still, I couldn't help but be reminded of the final installment of a blog from a woman in a similar situation a few years back: Van Life (Cancer Edition) Finale https://imgur.com/gallery/van-life-cancer-edition-finale-prUy1Kt https://imgur.com/gallery/van-life-cancer-edition-finale-prU... I honestly have read the finale once or twice a year since it was posted in order to try and sort of reground/reassess my life's direction. After reading about the woman in the article or the woman in the blog I posted, I can't help but get this feeling. A feeling of struggle. Struggling to rationalize the life that I have been conditioned to believe that I am "supposed" to live. After all, that very well could be me one day. It further spurs this almost sick to my stomach feeling that if I were in either one of these women's shoes, then I would probably have quite a few regrets about how I chose to live my life so far into my early 30s. All the countless hours of hard work, all the frugality, all the stress, the lack of taking risks, etc.. What has it all truly been worth? The stability and security has brought sustainability and placation but the contentment such a life has bred is equally ensnaring. I can't shake the feeling that there is more to life, but alas, what is it then?