The likelihood is that I’ll die alone. That really scares me. When I go, I want those I love to be there so I can tell them that I love them before I die.
Possibilities for me:
-aneurism, owing to damage done during youthful experiments with autoerotic asphyxiation
-lung cancer (three of my mom’s sisters have had it, so there may be some bad genes in my DNA)
-motorcycle accident (I’m an experienced/skilled/aware rider with a lot of protective gear, but I ride pretty aggressively sometimes and I cover a lot of miles)
-self-euthanasia (if I get to a point where I’m terminally ill or in a state of irreversible mental/physical decline)
I’m going to die of stroke.
Cite: COD, father. Contributing COD, mother. COD, paternal grandfather. COD, Maternal grandfather. COD, maternal grandmother.
Hey, use it while you’ve got it… 
Well, the wind Does come sweeping down the plain…
I quote Joe Jackson: Everything gives you cancer.
At one point, I thought I’d be killed by a milk truck on my 25th birthday…
No one in my family has yet died of heart disease. Cancer is far more likely for me.
I voted “Accident/misadventure” but not necessarily because I think that’s how I’ll go, I just like the idea of dying by “misadventure.”
As a direct result of my own actions.
My maternal grandfather died of a heart attack (while on the toilet). He was 56, so if I follow in his footsteps, my affairs had better be in order.
I am guessing cancer is more likely. My maternal grandmother died of pancreatic cancer, which I believe is mildly familial, and my paternal grandfather died of lung cancer (non-smoker). My paternal grandmother died of general disability of old age. My maternal grandmother was 78; both paternal grandparents were 83 when they died.
My mother-in-law just turned 96, so my wife will likely out live me. So much the better - she will do better as a rich widow than I would as a bereaved widower who doesn’t know how to work the washing machine.
Regards,
Shodan
I was just telling my mister that I thought a halfway decent retirement plan for us would be, sell the house, car and everything we own, invest the money, live off the income + pensions, on some third world tropical beach, thatched bungalow and hammock. If it looks like we’ll outlive the money, then we take up more and more adventurous activities, zip lines, bungy jumping, hang gliding, river rafting, mountain climbing, etc. I can say I would rather die zip lining in Costa Rica at 75yrs, than in a hospital or my own home. The mister wasn’t entirely sold on this idea.
Probably of heart disease/heart attack, both of which run high among the men on my mother’s side of the family. It doesn’t help that I smoke cigarettes, but oh well…
I got concerned that I was at high risk for a heart attack a while back and have made some lifestyle changes that have resulted in a loss of about 15% of my weight. I got even more concerned when my longer runs sometimes resulted in chest pains that I explained away as underused muscles getting a work out (a friend tells me "yeah, it’s your HEART muscle.) I’m now a lot fitter, a lot leaner, and feel a hell of a lot better for it. Still, I suspect I’ll go out via a heart attack in my 50-60s, or perhaps bowel cancer (there is family history.) Other possibilities involve crashing an aeroplane or getting taken out by a car while riding my bicycle.
Heh. I spent a year living on a very small Pacific island as a kid - I still remember the police patrolling when a tropical storm rolled through, warning everyone to stay inside for fear of ballistic coconuts. No one ever believes me when I tell this story, but I swear it happened, and it remains one of the most surreal experiences of my life.
I was told people don’t get hit much by coconuts because they have eyes, when I was in Asia.
Now getting hit with a durian is worth worrying about!
I’ll almost certainly die of complications of diabetes or congestive heart failure. It’s also possible that a heart attack will get me. If I live long enough to get Alzheimer’s, then I’ll make my own way out before my mind goes completely.
This thread reminds me of a book I just started reading … and the timing is a little creep-show.
The book is called The Machine of Death; it’s a collection of short stories all written on the same premise: there is a machine that, through a blood sample, can accurately predict how you will die. The stipulation in the premise is that the machine will tell you how you will die, but not when or where. And from there, flights of fancy take wing.
For example: the first story is about a high school girl who is anxious to get her reading so she’ll know which group she’ll be popular with. Will it be with the kids who got ‘Car Crash’ or will she be a ‘Burner’ or will she be relegate to the ‘Suicides?’
Her result turns out to be ‘Millenium Space Entropy’ and she is heartbroken because she won’t know which table to sit at in the lunch room at school.
Sorry for spoiling that one if you’re going to read the book but there’s 30 or so other stories to keep you entertained.
Suicide still seems like the most logical method of death. I certainly don’t want to be hospital oddity and genetics rule out heart failure and cancer. Not ready to check out yet, but it’s nice knowing that while I had no control over my birth, I certainly have total control over my death.
Cancer. Both my father and grandfather died of it, although my maternal grandfather died of a heart attack I think. My grandmothers died of old age, which isn’t a very specific cause, but they were well into their 80s at least. Their bodies simply gave out at the end, rather than because of any one specific reason.
Definitely cancer. Everybody in my family gets some form of cancer. Of my closest relatives, 2 out of 4 grandparents, both parents and my sister. All dead of cancer. Well, my dad’s not dead yet but he has 2 kinds of cancer at the moment, so it’s just a matter of time. The only real question is what kind will I get? I want one that kills me quickly.
Either a heart attack or a car accident in the third world.