I had a friend who died loving. There was always a pain within his chest, a shortness of breath, a heightened sense of fear. For it is love, there is no doctor to be had. He tried treating himself, but his medication of effort and goodwill was not what that was required. I hate to see a good man die. In his last moments he struggled still. I can still remember his ashen face- a relief look of cold lifelessness. He shivered, he gave his last convulsion, he gave his last breath away. Of course he died of heart complications.