“Everyday life seems unbelievably minuscule when faced with the prospects of death and dying.” These are the words of Dr. David Avery. David is thirty years old, unmarried, a successful doctor, and has recently been confronted with the knowledge that he is suffering from a terminal form of acute leukemia. The living room in which Dr. Avery and I sit in his Monterey home is beautifully decorated with portraits of angels. On nearly every wall these images of ethereal beauty give one a sense of safety and calm. It is ironic that these ominous creatures should watch over this home which is covered in a cloud of impending death. The only dimension that leads one to believe David is