Of shackles that save and a heart seemingly not brave

He did everything a cancer patient would have done to prevent a recurrence: He faithfully checked for the earliest signs of the disease returning, and minimized his risk factors. ... Not all cancers can be cured. Nor can all depressions. With the strong foundation of our love and his excellent care, my husband had almost 20 years of remission before succumbing to his disease.

From this article, the best of my recent reads. A good chunk of it reverberates a little too close to my shoes; good enough to warrant multiple reads late last night.

By way of suggestion, let me offer this here. Add a chain to your legs and a heavy one at that; one that will make you torn between choosing to end things and worrying the moment next, of the gory implications it would on the ones around.

It is bound to shred you to pieces with each passing day, but right there I tell you, is the perk of it all; the ironical perk that always helps everyone else but you.

Tangential as it is, paraphrasing what Adam Smith once said, "In the long run, we are all dead", but what would you choose as a burden along the path? One you chose for yourself, or one forced by the (in)sanities of the word around and conformance?