I actually couldn't laugh through it. There are a few reasons. I'll be honest, when I was first diagnosed and when it came back again and again, it did cross my mind.. that if I got to the point where it was terminal and I was approaching the stage where I would no longer be able to wipe my own backside or wash myself or feed myself.. it was something I thought about in the dead of night. And I thought, would I be strong enough to do it? Which was always countered with 'do I want my children to see me in that state' and worse, do I want to risk my children finding me or being there as I died, be it by my own hand or by it. It played alot on my mind. Or would I be weak and allow my selfish desire to spend more time with my children result in my children seeing me in the state that the final stage takes you. It is a horrendous proposition to have to think about. And I thought about it. A lot. I remember telling my best friend what I had been thinking and how I had been feeling and he just looked at me, held my hand and cried. Granted at that point my hair had fallen out and he'd just helped me clean up after being quite ill, so he may have been crying at the position he'd volunteered himself into by staying with me. I can't laugh about it because it is still very vivid to me. Making yes and no lists in my mind. It is a horrible thing to have to consider and frankly, I have respect for people who do it as much as I have respect for people who choose not to. It is personal and I guess, until you've been there and faced the possibility for real.. I guess without that, it is kind of funny. But most of all, I can't laugh about it because when I was much younger, my best friend killed herself and her father and I found her. That stays with you for life. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think about her, nor is there a day that goes by that I actually do not see her again as she was at that time. I don't recall her alive. I still see her as she was when she died. And not a day goes by that I don't think about our last conversation and why I let her hang up the phone or when I had last seen her and why I didn't notice. She suffered from severe depression after a childhood filled with being raped by her step-father. In the end, she killed herself as she was entering adulthood. She never recovered. That article, to me, while many find it funny, to me it is just a sad reflection of reality. The moment the thought of ending it enters your head, you have to tell someone.