Choose Your Own Adventure

In life, we are faced with many choices.  Some of them are easy to make, and some seem utterly impossible.  When it comes to the choice of Life or Death, how do you choose?

ANCIENT HISTORY TO MODERN DAY
Euthanasia (from Greek: εὐθανασία; “good death”) may have been standard practice long before the Greeks gave a name to it, or Socrates sipped his hemlock, and it’s clear that it was not unique to that region.  The Japanese practice of Ubasute (abandoning the elderly or infirm on a mountain to die), Serbian Lapot, the Norse/Germanic Attestupa, and on and on…

In God on Trial, Rane Willerslev describes the practices of the Chukchi People of the Russian Arctic:

Among the Chukchi, human sacrifice is, as a matter of ethnographic fact, a customary practice. In the early ethnographies, it goes under the name of “voluntary death,” and it involves the killing of a close family member—often ill and aged—who expresses a wish to die (Borogas, 1904).

Willerslev argues that this Chukchi practice is really just human sacrifice, equating it with the story of Abraham’s binding of Isaac in the Hebrew Scriptures. His basis for this argument is that they are both based on faith (and/or trickery), and therefore a sacrifice, not a mercy killing.

The history of these ancient practices in our subconscious, along with our modern, societal psychological hangups around aging, have given rise to a plethora of dystopian fantasies revolving around this premise: Logan’s Run, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Stargate AtlantisBoomsday, to name just a few.

For “assisted suicide” (voluntary active euthanasia) and its debate, one needs only search the internet for the controversial Dr. Kervorkian.

The argument for or against legalized euthanasia could (and does) fill several million articles and blog posts, and the ethics of it leads to extremely personal and volatile discussion, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about.  I am writing about voluntary passive euthanasia, as it has popped-up a lot in my life in this last year.

VOLUNTARY DEATH
 Life’s like a movie: write your own ending…

SUFFERING:
My husband’s grandmother was either 103 or 106 when she died (her birth records were lost in a fire, and being a lady, she never told her true age).  She survived 2 world Wars, 2 husbands, and witnessed the dawn of 2 centuries.  Towards the end, she was very frail, and depended on others to take care of her.  Her sight and hearing were failing, and it was extremely hard for her to get around.  Many times, she was heard  lamenting “Why won’t God take me?”

CHOOSING:
A friend of mine just lost her father. He was 98 years old. A war hero, a beloved doctor in his community, and a widower for over 30 years, his last few months were filled with friends dying, subsequent bouts of depression, and infections that caused balance issues.  One fall resulted in a broken neck that, at his age, would never heal. It required wearing an uncomfortable neck brace 24 hours a day, taking away his comfort and his ability to drive or to take care of himself.  When they found a possible melanoma on his back, he decided not to get it biopsied. “If it’s cancer, so what?” he said. “I’m 98 years old. Why fight it?”  His doctor and his daughter (a doctor herself) agreed.  When an infection caused him to be bedridden, he made the conscious decision to stop fighting altogether. He stopped eating and was given basic palliative end-of-life care so he could be comfortable. He passed away on his own terms, and in his own time, surrounded by his family.

A NEW TREND?:
Currently, a close family member and a friend’s mother (both in their 80s) are going through eerily similar circumstances. Both have different forms of cancer that have metastasized and entered their lymph nodes.  In both cases, radical radiation or chemotherapy might help, but the prognosis is not clear, and the treatments would come at a high cost (both physically and financially).  Both have decided not to undergo these treatments.  They both know the consequences, but have weighed their options and decided on quality of life over quantity of life.  Understandably, their families are devastated, but having witnessed countless others suffer during treatment only to succumb to the disease, they are (reluctantly) accepting of this decision.    

I wonder if I would make the same decision, or if I could allow someone close to me to make that decision without a fight.

PERSONAL CHOICE:
My parents both died of complications from Alzheimer’s Disease.  Odds are, if I live long enough, that I will face that same dreadful curse.  Should that time come, I honestly don’t know what I would choose.  Practicality says “Think of the pain (to myself) and the burden of care (to my family, to our finances) that I could avoid.” Human Nature reminds me to be scared of Death, and Hope wants to hold out for a cure that could come down-the-line.  For me, there is the added burden that Alzheimer’s is a slow and drawn-out demise.  So I would be faced with the added question of “When would be the right time to go?”  I think that would be more important than the how.

“To die will be an awfully big adventure.”
― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

MISC. RELATED LINKS:
Cost of Treatment in Medical Decision Making?
The High Cost of Dying
Cost Analysis of Medical Assistance in Dying (plus this article)
The High Cost of Cancer Treatment – AARP
When Fighting Cancer isn’t Worth It
Alzheimer’s Death – Being Patient
Gene Wilder’s Wife on Caring for Someone with Alzheimer’s
Robin Williams – “The Hardest Role of His Life”
6 Questions to Ask Before Writing a Living Will


I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.  Do you have any experience with a loved one choosing death over suffering?  Do you judge those that consider it (voluntary euthanasia)?  Would you, yourself, consider this choice if the situation arose?  Could you choose for someone that couldn’t choose for themselves (involuntary euthanasia)?  Do you have a DNR (do not resuscitate) order or a Living Will?

 

EDIT: I promise, the next post will be something happy and uplifting.
I put that Muppet Movie video in there to lighten the mood a little bit…

Please don’t…

… finish my sentences.  I am 100% sure you do not know what I’m going to say.  It makes you look pushy, or bored with the conversation, or just like an asshole.  I understand that people do this to impress upon you that they have a superior intellect and that they are not only following-along with what you are saying, they already know everything about it.

… yell at me when I’m trying to help you.  If you’ve asked for my assistance and I am giving it to you, don’t take your frustrations out on me when I can’t understand what you are asking for.  I understand you are frustrated and angry with yourself and your situation, but the person helping you should never have to deal with your misdirected anger.

… wait in front of the train door when people are trying to get off.  You will get on, but only if you let us make room for you by exiting the car.

I don’t want to be negative, but there are certain behaviors that make me question how people have gotten this far in their lives without being told that these behaviors are unacceptable or rude.  I have already railed against self-important, blameless people, but it seems to be becoming the norm to be someone who is so outwardly self-centered, yet (ironically?) the exact opposite of self-aware.  Perhaps I am blessed to have had the time, resources, and opportunities to examine my own life choices – my temperament, my faults – maybe most people do not have that luxury?

Know thyself not Know thy selfie.

Is it because no one has challenged them up to this point?  Is that why they continue (or even start to develop) these behaviors?  Why is it tolerated in today’s society?  Are we so beaten-down by the daily news, or numb from being inundated with social feeds of people excelling (or, with schadenfreude: failing) in their lives?

i’d love to hear your thoughts.

Let’s do the time hop again…

 

I know, I know: It’s Time WARP, but I didn’t want to give you false hopes that this would be a Rocky Horror-themed blog post.

It looks like my last post was November 2016.  This is exactly 19 months later.  Yikes!  Let’s pretend like there was a dramatic time hop from then to now.

I’m still loving my job and the people I work with.   I admit that sometimes certain behaviors get on my nerves, but it doesn’t bother me enough to be miserable or to come home and complain to my husband.  In the past, if someone was annoying, disrespectful, or bitchy to me, my frustration would grow and become its own entity,  I remember coming home every night to tell my husband yet another story of how I had been mistreated by X or Y.  He would attentively listen, agreeing that X was a total bitch and that what she had done was borderline abusive, that Y was treating me unfairly, etc.    Now, I come home and tell him funny stories about the quirky set of characters I’m surrounded by.

As I said, it’s not always wonderful in my current situation, but the less-than-fun bits don’t get me down anymore.  I owe this turnaround, in part, to a new attitude.

In my last job, I would keep a log of the more egregious abuses from X in a file called ‘Old Dog’ (as in, the kind you can’t teach new tricks to…and the double meaning of bitch).  It was a form of therapy to get it all out and it served as a record that I thought I may need later.  That, combined with telling everyone that would listen about it, or swapping war stories with other coworkers, caused the negativity to swell and cycle and become something that couldn’t be escaped.

Maybe it’s age? Maybe it’s a heightened empathy?  Maybe it’s circumstantial after the less-than-stellar year we have had so far (see below)?  Now, I find myself brushing-off the nonsense.  When one coworker bitches about another (or another, or another…), I listen, but I don’t feed it or let it ruin my experience.  When a coworker treats me like a child or says something offensive, I know that it is her own insecurities that cause her to act that way, so I don’t give it the weight that I would have in the past.  Someone will say: “How can you stand working with Z? She is so _____!”  I simply say “I’ve worked with many Z’s in my life. I know how they operate and how to deal with them.”  You truly can’t teach an old dog new tricks, so stop trying.  They upset you with unkind words or looks?   They inconvenienced you for 15 minutes?  Let it go.  It doesn’t matter.

In the grand scheme of things:  IT.  DOESN’T.  MATTER.

This is definitely personal growth, and I’m happy to be able to recognize and acknowledge that.

I’m not saying that one should not defend oneself, or to let people walk all over you.  I am saying that, in this day and age, in this culture of self martyrdom and publicizing your victimization to get attention (we all have a friend or two on social media that consistently posts an attention-seeking/pity-me/I’ve been wronged update), it is easy to fall into the trap of letting our small inconveniences turn into monsters that eat away at our lives.

On those circumstances I alluded to above:

Donald Trump is still President, and every day some new dystopian degradation is announced.  It’s wearing me down to the point where I don’t read or listen to the news anymore.  The LGBTQ rights that my own family members (Trump supporters) told me not to worry about, because “they can’t take that away from you” that are being taken away, and the way innocent children are treated like animals is just too much to deal with.

2018 started for us with one of the hardest decisions we have ever had to make.  We put our dog of 13 years, our companion, our Little Love, to sleep.  He was suffering from dementia, bladder issues, a heart murmur, glaucoma, and a myriad of small problems.  He had his good days when he acted like a puppy, not a senior dog, and he had many terrible nights.  We scheduled and postponed the appointment twice, but finally we knew that it was best for all of us to end his suffering before it became unbearable.  Our hearts were torn into pieces, and though it is easier today, we still feel an ache and a hole in our lives.

Shortly after that, my mother-in-law went into the hospital for some major surgeries.  My husband’s family lives 1100 miles away, so it was stressful for us to be getting updates, but not be able to be there.  My husband flew down there to be with his Mom before and after her surgeries.  This saga is not over, as she is currently in the hospital right now undergoing more procedures.  Without a doubt, her conditions are made worse by the next bit:

While that was going on, an estranged family member emerged.  She had been unconscious in a hospital for almost a week before we were told.  She had been dropped-off by her addict friends with MRSA in her spine, a second blood infection, and fluid in her lungs.  She required and received open-heart surgery, lung draining, and aggressive multiple antibiotic treatments.  Again, my husband flew down to be there.  She continues to check herself out and then back into the hospitals with worsening ailments, but it is only a matter of time before she is finally free of her pain. They will not operate on her again.

We lost a dear family friend who lived life to the fullest. Cancer ate through him in 3 weeks.

While my husband was out of state dealing with his ailing family, I drove down to see my mother, who is living in a memory care assisted living facility.  She had to be moved to a higher level of care (locked/coded floors and elevators to stop wandering, with more nurses).  I took her out for the day: blood drawn, lunch, shopping, mall walking, driving around – while my brothers moved everything from one floor to the next.  The Alzheimer’s made it seem to her that nothing had changed.  She walked into the new room -a mirror image of the old one – as if it were the same.  It was the plan, but it was heartbreaking.

Another family member gave us devastating news about his health, then became unemployed and unable to pay for his treatment.

My husband had a few episodes of ‘global amnesia’ that scared us both.  Multiple doctors and scans say that nothing is wrong, and that it must have been stress-induced (see above).

I developed kidney pain that specialists conclude I have to live with until it goes away in months or a year. Fun!

With medical bills, flights to visit sick family, and a vacation the we desperately needed, we are pretty maxed-out on credit cards.  We are working to fix that, but this was one more stress we didn’t count on.

So…although now this looks like the ‘poor me’ posts I talked about earlier, it’s really just a sample of what has built the foundation and watermark for how we deal with small inconveniences in our day-to-day lives…

In the grand scheme of things: it doesn’t matter.