Let the chips fall where they lie, they say. Accept what cannot be changed and savor the good, they say. Yet to live or die fighting for each inch, each day, feels as if one is standing on a trap door, over a well. At any moment the ground beneath your feet may evaporate. The trepid anticipation of free falling, as you stand there precariously in angst, feeling the hinges of the door below rattle, knowing that any moment could be your last.