Some physicists think that there are many possible worlds: that at every juncture ever faced, the universe splits to allow for every possible variation. Assuming this idea has any validity, there are at least three worlds now that i am glad to not exist in. The first world split when there was a chance Antonio had suffered some venomous bite that would take him away from me. The second world split when there was a chance my mom had some kind of incurable pancreatitis. And the third world split when i fell out of a tree Saturday, narrowly avoiding serious injury at the hands of several sharp corners raised from the ground i fell on.
We're all living on borrowed time, so let's do the best we can, ok?