The Lost Dreams, Part 1: My Demise

I am going to start periodically posting non-chronological dreams that I have had but never shared here. From time to time, when I am reminded of a particular dream that is especially important or meaningful to me, I will put it here. Here's my first try. It is the recollection of a dream I had several months ago.

I was sitting in a quiet room at a large wooden desk. It must have been years in the future, because I was middle-aged. I was busy with paperwork or something, when the door in front of me opened, and somebody walked in. They said something to me, and immediately I was racked with pain. I clawed at the desk as I felt myself slump sideways and fall to the floor. I could feel a deep, incredibly pervasive pain as I realized that I was in the middle of a heart attack, and that I was dying. As I lay on my right side, taking gasping breaths while my vision blurred, I could see under my desk, and was looking directly at the shoes of the person standing on the other side. They turned, and I watched them retreat through the door, leaving me alone as my life faded. I was filled with terror, and thought to myself that dying was much different than I expected. There was no calm, comforting music, no soft farewell from the world as I gently passed out of existence. Instead, I was perfectly conscious, fully aware of my surroundings and what was happening as I felt the last few drops of vigor flow through my veins. Then the end came.

I was troubled with this dream the following day. I'm sure that the feelings I had were exactly what is felt by every human being that dies a conscious death. My passing wasn't a gentle descent marked by a final giving up of the spirit. Instead, it was merely an intense yet feeble struggle and fight, while my mind worked hard to will myself to live. This scares me much more than the alternative.