death + dying

Yesterday in lab, our topic was Death & Dying. It was a hard two hours for all of us. We learned all about when curative turns into palliative, and our instructor shared her experiences with being a hospice nurse. We learned how dying people are so much stronger than they let on - they can tolerate far more meds than any of us ever could, and they can hold out for months if they have a single unresolved issue. We shared stories of heartache and of hope. We talked about friends, grandparents, and media cases.  We discussed laws, wishes, and natural processes.  We had such an intimate discussion while we learned a lot as well.  I made a vow to work on assembling some things I've been thinking about for awhile - a will, advanced directives, and a "Five Wishes" statement because you just never know what will happen, and trust me, you want to make your wishes known because there are so many options, and so many of them will be appalling to you, while others will seem only natural.  What is appalling or natural to you might be the opposite to whomever is handling your care.  You have a choice now, so make it.

Anyhow...

One of the most impacting part though was how our instructor started class. We performed an exercise, and I will share it with you how I remember it.

Take out a sheet of paper and make a list of your top five prized possessions.

Next, number your five favorite activities, followed by your five favorite body parts/features, five most important values to you, and lastly, your five most special people. You should have a paper full of 25 precious things. 25 beautiful things that make your life as special as it is.

Are you done? Good job.

Now imagine... one day you wake up. It's a beautiful spring day, much like today. The birds are singing and the sun is shining. Your life is really great and you are thrilled to be living in such a beautiful world.

You get up, kiss your husband, and jump into the shower. You discover a lump in your neck and think it is probably just swollen glands from your aggravated springtime allergies. Cross off the first two items on your paper.

A few weeks later, the lump is still there. You make an appointment to see your doctor just to make sure. Cross off one item.

Your doctor schedules a biopsy just to be safe, and he says if it's found to be malignant, they'll have to remove it. Cross two items off of your list. Your secret fear is malignancy, but you try to keep it out of your mind. You go in for the biopsy and assume you'll wake up and everything will be fine. Cross one item off of your list.

You wake up in a state of anesthesia grogginess, and you reach up and feel a huge bandage on your neck. Your worst fear has been confirmed. Cross three items off of your list.

Recovery is slow, and your spirit is in turmoil. You have no idea what to do. Cross two items off of your list.

Your doctor suggests radiation. You oblige, ready to endure torturous treatment in hopes of saving your life. Cross three items off of your list.

Radiation ends. Life returns to normal, well almost. You try to move on with the emotional scar that just won't heal. Cross three items off of your list.

Life keeps going, and two years later, you find your glands are swollen once again. You find it difficult to breathe. Cross one item off of your list.

You go in to see your doctor, and she confirms lung metastases. Cross three items off of your list.

You can't shake the sense of denial, but you proceed with chemotherapy nonetheless. Cross two items off of your list.

Chemo progresses, and you fight hard. You want to live so badly, but you just have no appetite. Cross two items off of your list.

Chemo stops working, and your doctor says there is no more use in pursuing it. Unfortunately, death is eminent. The only thing to do is to seek palliative care and wait to die. Fold your list up and throw it away.