It's usually preferable not to remark on the physical ailments that pervade my existence, because if I mention them, often I receive lectures from people lacking health problems about how I would be fine if only I did such-and-such.
But I can talk to Steech about it, because Steech gets it. When I tell him about being home alone thinking what if I keel over, what if I die, he tells me about he times he would make sure the phone was near his bed before going to sleep, in case he had to call 911. And he says when he thinks what if he dies, he figures, "if I'm dead, people can deal without having a pianist that particular morning, and I'm not too fussed about it." And he remarks, "I suppose, the great thing about being replaced as a species by robots is that, as robots, we can be programmed not to be tired or feel lousy."