
Today, my role is limited to carving the jack-o-lantern. I try not to make him look too scary. He’s a sort of open-for-business sign, an invitation to the little ghosts and witches and ballerinas and football players to step up and dig some “fun-sized” chocolate bars out of the black-plastic witches’ cauldron.

Maybe it’s because it’s Halloween, but today’s New York Times – responding to the recent anxieties about antibiotic-resistant bacteria – has a little article, called "How Scared Should We Be?", on the relative risks of dying from various things. Some of these comparisons are rather bizarre: such as the one that says you’re more likely to die from being bonked on the head by a falling coconut (150 cases a year, around the world) than being killed by a shark (62 cases in the United States).
Here’s a portion of a chart indicating various causes of death:
Heart disease: 652,486 deaths annually (1 in 5 risk)
Cancer: 553,888 deaths annually (1 in 7 risk)
Stroke: 150,074 deaths annually (1 in 24 risk)
Hospital infections: 99,000 deaths annually (1 in 38 risk)
Flu: 59,664 deaths annually (1 in 63 risk)
Car accidents: 44,757 deaths annually (1 in 84 risk)
Down at the lower levels, risks include:
Lightning: 47 deaths annually (1 in 79,746 risk)
Train crash: 24 deaths annually (1 in 156,169 risk)
Fireworks: 11 deaths annually (1 in 340,733 risk)

Yeah, chances are pretty good that cancer’s what I’m going to die from, in the end. But, when will that end be? Hard to say. Indolent lymphoma takes its lazy old time, and typically lets itself get beaten back down into is hole numerous times, by a succession of treatments, before rearing up and doing its worst.
Bottom line is, I don’t have time to feel scared. I have things to do, people to see. Odds are, my disease’s progression is more likely to be spaced out over years (or, in the best case, decades) rather than months. So, I can put the fear off a while longer.
Happy Halloween!