Is fear of dying the ultimate FOMO?

My name is unimportant. I am a woman. A mother. A lover. A daughter. A friend. A few months ago I was diagnosed with incurable breast cancer at age 43. Nobody knows how long they have on this planet. But I have a Damocles sword bomb in my body ticking. And one day, might be months, might be a few years, it will explode. I know that. Mentally this game is reckless. We have no other choice that to think about death. And I guess each of us develop our own strategies. I am very lucky than as weird as I might sound I am actually in one of the best periods of my life emotionally. Young love that grew stronger with the situation, and awareness we are living better together. We are much more than the disease. We are laugh, love, ideas, travels and cuddles.
I am no religious, and from a very young age I understood we came from nothing and life as we know it will end on nothing. Nothingness appeals to me. Always have been. No more pain. No more drama. No more noise. I am not fearful of nothing. I am sad I will be missing out. Seeing my daughter growing to the beautiful adult I know she will become. Supporting her to be a fearless woman. To see her love. To observe unfolding her art of living. In awe of the colors she might choose. Supporting her feeling the browns greys and darks. And the importance of white.
And yet, today, I am in no pain. The sun is bright. Breathing is fresh. I feel the freedom while I swim, and the love all around me. My partner in life choosing to love with me. My parents, my sisters, my friends welcoming me back home. Home of my light. Home to the sight of the mountains that soothe me. Home of the honey that calmed me as a child. And there is no fear. Because I am not missing out.