He didn't want to die, he was pretty sure about that, after all, every living creature would fight hard to keep holding on to it as soon as they saw it slipping away. He could remember gasping for breath as he lay on the ground, Miller standing over him.
So if he didn't want to die, then why didn't he want the surgery?
The odds of it killing him, of course. But really, what sort of a life was this, unable to do the job he loved, the only thing he had any more.
Of course, he was stubborn. He knew that. But maybe that was what had gotten him this far. How much longer could he keep going like this?
He was afraid he already knew the answer to that.