The doc telling you you're going to make it, while your wife knows all along you're in your fourth stage of cancer and shes already making arrangements for your funeral, while you're spending money on a couple of bikes, and after you buy the bikes, there's no money left for your coffin, so they leave you to decay in the garden, when you die, the day after buying the bikes, and hours after receviing delivery, and parking them in your garage to take them out once you've had a little sleep. The kind of sleep you don't end up waking from.