As we uncovered the patient, the scrub nurse, one with whom I hadn’t worked before, said, “You on call this weekend, Doc?”

“Nope.” And possibly never again.

“Got any more cases today?” “Nope.” And possibly never again.

“Shit, well, I guess that means this is a happy ending! Work’s done. I like happy endings, don’t you, Doc?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I like happy endings.”

Paul Kalanithi in the When Breathe becomes Air 

My wife endlessly praises When Breathe becomes Air. I have not read it. But I read this excerpt. And I hope to read the book.

I hope I have many coaching years left.

As jaded as I may get on occasion with my grinding schedule and as tiring as my job can get, there’s nothing else I would rather be doing other than being a dad.

But the idea that there is a coaching hour in the future which will be my last hour of coaching. Or my last cue for a client is just terrifying.

I do acknowledge there things far more important than coaching and getting people stronger. But the vocation defines me and who I am. Teaching people how to train or exercise fills me with a joy and satisfaction that very few things can match. Watching someone use something I made to train hard gives me such a kick.

We will all die some day. And I hope to have no regrets and many satisfied souls around me when that day comes. But idea that there will be one last coaching hour terrifies me more than death itself.