I was diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism not that long ago. While I was in hospital with it, I don't think it really sunk in how I almost died, even though a lot of people were telling me how lucky I was that it was discovered in time and that I was being treated. I think I was more overcome by my phobia of hospitals and wished I was rather dead than in that place. I really started thinking after I was discharged, though. It made me realise just how fragile my own life is and how anything unfortunate can happen that could just mean the end of everything. I've, of course, started to make a conscious effort to take care of my health but am also working towards creating memories. I more than ever feel the need to just do things that make me happy, because who knows how much time I will actually have.