A brush with death

I sort of had a brush with death yesterday. The only thing is, I completely imagined the death part.
I was driving home late at night from Kamloops, outside of which I'd been camping with family and friends for a couple of weeks. It was really wonderful, but exhausting too as we played a lot of sports, a lot of sudoku and a lot of scrabble. One's brain can only take so much. Also, my mind is pretty full with thoughts of school right now- how I'm going to afford to pay for it, am I ready to be a doctor, can I do it?
Just inside of Chilliwack I couldn't take it any more. The road was weaving in front of me and other cars were just a blur of light. I was clenching and unclenching my jaw to handle the cold, because I'd turned the air conditioning on full blast to keep from falling asleep. (The air conditioning only really works when its already cold outside, go figure.)
I pulled off the highway and into a truck stop that had potholes the size of my car. In the pitch black it was hard to see them but I wove through them and found a place to park. I scrunched up a pillow under my head, and curling up in a ball in the front seat, I drifted into la-la land. A five minute catnap, just perfect.
I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep, because despite the fatigue my mind was whirling. But I awoke suddenly to a loud screeching noise and I looked out my window and there was a massive semi-truck coming straight for my little car. (Okay, my sister's car.) It was so close that I could see the features of the driver's face in the dark and the squeal of his brakes as he turned sharply past us. I shouted something (I don't really remember what it was, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't that edifying) and frantically tried to slam my horn with my fist. With a great whoosh of air he skidded by us and I shouted at my fellow passengers, "That guy didn't even see us! I was sure he was going to hit us!"
"Actually, there was lots of room." Christoph interjected. "He saw us and turned. You must have just woken up suddenly and thought it was closer than it was."
Of course Christoph was right. In my sleepy-dreamy state, I'd been startled by the noise of the truck and woken a bit disoriented, and opened my eyes to see a massive semi almost right on top of us. But really there was lots of room. (Actually, it's known that guys have better depth perception than girls.)
Aside from that brief weird incident, the rest of our journey was relatively uneventful, not including our stop at Tim Hortons to make up for a month without donuts. We spent lots of time singing and playing silly games to waste time and stay awake, and in the midst of it I was struck by a deep spiritual parallel. Because I recognized the danger of falling asleep at the wheel, I did whatever it took to stay awake. I chewed gum. I kept the AC on. I slapped myself and Christoph helpfully obliged by pinching me. I opened and closed the windows and when it was really really tough I took a nap.
How committed are we as Christians to staying awake? To standing firm and being on our guard? Would we do whatever it takes? (Including risking a semi collision?)