How many times can you die?

I sent an email yesterday to my work colleagues. I was my usual matter of fact, this is what this is, self.
What occurred to me, was the frequency of this notification. My sense of fraud.
The jeopardy.
She won't die.

But who has to do this?
Who lives this... This cycle, this endless expectation of pain and discomfort.
Even if I'm as fine as I am now.
How many times can I be close to death?
But never there, never enough.
I've read about convicts on death row. The inhuman treatment they receive. The mental torture of being aware you're going to die but it keeps being delayed.
Today, I feel little that's what VHL does.
Today I'm getting ready for this, tomorrow I might find out I'm properly fucked.

How many times can you know you're going to die?