If you could learn the terms on which you die, would you seek the truth? Would you live the rest of your life knowing, counting, and expecting that dark mysterious Dead End? Or would you rather be dining at a friend’s, casually catching up over tea, when suddenly your own brain – your body and your soul and your mind – betrays you in an act of poor circulation and sends you face-first into your tea cake, vomiting and spewing into oblivion.. and then no more? What if the last thing you knew was that friend’s face, that piece of gossip, and that tea? And depending on site of lesion, perhaps you knew just then, that you were dying by the pain in your head, the taste of the bile, and the sound of your friend’s screaming… screaming… screaming?
Is that a blissful way to die? By not knowing when you will consciously act for the final time? I do not know. The alternative is almost scarier – to live in anticipation of the end, but do we not do that already?
No living human can answer any question posed here. No; in fact, we can only remember that death is the end and forget it until it comes.