Would it refuse to go to the doctor?

Yes. It would not fear death, as you do. For you will die, just as he did. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps 20 years from now. But you will die, just as he.

You can only argue from induction. You don't know me.

That's true. I'm just trying to respond to your question. If you do not fear death, why would you question his decision not to seek medical help? Apologies if my bluntness was confused for aggression.

We, all of us, have a 100% chance of dying in the future. I am not Jim, but I suspect he would say that the moment is what was important to him, and not the length of his life.

Misinterpreting genius to mean a person is universally good at things and intelligent is what's happening here I think.

...oh no, Oscar Wildcat, I mean that you don't know that I'm going to die, it's just induction.

I think that the generalization doesn't hold, in my case.

And of COURSE I'm afraid of death. Don't be a silly billy.

*I* know that you're going to die.

...um

@Solro : That's a legitimate point of view, but your point of view, not Jim's. I also would like to have had him seek medical help. But this is selfish on my part. We could call him foolish for this, but it doesn't offer us much insight into what happened.

Here is another point of view. This from H. Hesses' Journey to the East. It's the closing passage, and I have rendered it to be relevant to Jim Henson rather than the protagonist HH. So the I here is Jim talking.

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...when I drew the thin curtains aside I saw that it contained nothing written. It contained nothing but a figure, an old and worn-looking model made from wood or wax, in pale flesh color. It appeared to be a kind of deity or barbaric idol. At first glance it was entirely incomprehensible to me. It was a figure that really consisted of two; it had a common back. I stared at it for a while, disappointed and surprised. Then I noticed a candle in a metal candlestick fixed to the wall of the niche. A match-box lay there. I lit the candle and the strange double figure was now brightly illuminated. Only slowly did it dawn upon me. Only slowly and gradually did I begin to suspect and then perceive what it was intended to represent. It represented a figure which was myself, and this likeness of myself was unpleasantly weak and half-real; it had blurred features, and in its whole expression there was something unstable , weak, dying or wishing to die, and looked rather like a piece of sculpture which could be called "Transitoriness" or "Decay," or something similar. On the other hand, the other figure which was joined to mine to make one, was bright green in color and amphibian in form, and just as I began to realize whom it resembled, namely, the Kermit the Frog, I discovered a second candle in the wall and lit this also. I now saw the double figure representing Kermit and myself, not only becoming clearer and each image more alike, but I also saw that the surface of the figures was transparent and that one could look inside as one can look through the glass of a bottle or vase. Inside the figures I saw something moving, slowly, extremely slowly, in the same way that a snake moves which has fallen asleep. Something was taking place there, something like a very slow, smooth but continuous flowing or melting; indeed, something melted or poured across from my image to that of Kermit's. I perceived that my image was in the process of adding to and flowing into Kermit's, nourishing and strengthening it. It seemed that, in time, all the substance from one image would flow into the other and only one would remain: Kermit. He must grow, I must disappear. As I stood there and looked and tried to understand what I saw, I recalled a short conversation that I had once had with Kermit during the festive days at Sesame Street. We had talked about the creations of poetry being more vivid and real than the poets themselves. The candles burned low and went out. I was overcome by an infinite weariness and desired to sleep, and I turned away to find a place where I could lie down and sleep.
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Ennui.

The other Jim, that is