Monday, August 24, 2009

Weekend


Going away and coming together again makes time together more fun. This past weekend, my husband and I visited the beach. Hugh surfed Hurricane Bill (I like to think my dad sent those wonderful waves as a gift to us). Mom enjoyed a peaceful weekend at home and had drinks and dinner with my friend, Peggy, who has become a "dear one" to my mother these days. Last night, we arrived home late. Mom was up waiting for the latest episode of MadMen in her bedroom. Mary had just returned home from a camping trip. At ten, Mary and I rushed upstairs and plopped on Mom's bed where we all watched this decadent show, gasping from scene to scene, laughing at each other's reactions. It's nice to be home again.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Words Matter

What is end-of-life planning? What is a death panel? We live in an age where words matter. Speeches and videos go viral on the Internet and cable news. Headlines shaped by manipulating parties are designed to create vivid pictures in people’s minds to cause a reaction. It's nauseating how predictably people comply.

End-of-Life planning suggests that our lives will end. Not exactly news. Death panel suggests a firing squad (Nevermind Al Quaida, your government wants to "pull the plug on Grandma"). I’ve come to believe that humans have the strongest survival instinct on the planet. Even while we knowingly pollute our land and water, supersize our meals, and consume toxic substances on a daily basis, we think we will live forever.
Sorry folks.

For those of us who have helplessly watched an older relative or friend suffer from a chronic disease and waste away in the hospital, poked with needles and fed with tubes, another possibility exists. The possibility that we might avoid agonizing hours on a ventilator watching family members cry at our bedside. We will still get old and sick, but we will choose comfort over intervention, nature over machinery. We’ll opt for pain management versus another invasive "cure." We’ll accept. There is no cure for death.

No one is saying everyone needs to sign a living will. But everyone certainly has the right to know they exist, and to understand how it might impact a family at the most crucial decision-making moment in their lives. Whether you sign it or opt out, there is relief. Knowing the facts and making a fully-informed decision takes the burden off a family that may have to guess your wishes in the future.

End-of-life planning is what grown-ups do. They plan for themselves, and they plan for their children. Why should anyone but the patient decide what treatment plan to deliver when disaster strikes? A grown-up makes that decision him or herself, in advance, with counseling.

The phrase death panel was specifically designed to incite fear and demonize people in government. The problem is: it was spoken by a woman who makes her living working in government.

We drastically compromise our future by our own inability to understand and act upon anything longer than a sensational headline.

End-of-life planning used to sound like a reasonable phrase. Lately, it has been dished up with side orders of horrific intentions meant to misinterpret its meaning. So let’s acknowledge that words matter and change them to suit the activity. How about comfort planning or the family directive. Personally, I like the phrase “living will.” Let's go back to that. It suggests consideration and intent, that the living will make their intentions clear!

As far as the label death panel goes, it doesn’t deserve another label—it doesn’t exist.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Happy Hour at the Hospice Hotel

The words of Monsignor Charles Fahey, a Catholic Priest and Chairman of the board of the National Council on Aging said it best:

“If I cannot say another prayer,
If I cannot give or get another hug,
And if I cannot have another martini — then let me go."

Cheers, Mom...want a dividend?

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Heatwave


Just served Mom a hot grilled cheese sandwich in our ice-cream-freezer-of-a-house while it's nearly 100 degrees outdoors. Today we talked about AC. More than anything else, I believe it prolongs life in this day and age, especially in the south! Growing up we had the window kind that blew right on you in your small bedroom and grew frosty coats of ice from condensation, but not all our rooms had AC. Mostly, we ran through the sprinkler or just refused to move for long periods as the heat bore down on us like a tight blanket. When that blanket covered your mouth, it was airless. Mom says the colder the temperature, the easier she can breathe. I don't know who invented the airconditioner but I'm glad it's here and chillin.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

The Topic Nobody Wants to Talk About...

I’m glad I was raised not to fear death. It’s suffering I fear, helplessness. Death is the end of suffering (for those of us who refuse to acknowledge the devil) and the beginning of the answer to the most mysterious question we face while living. When I ask my mother, “Are you afraid to die?” She says, “No.” After a pause, she adds, “But if Dad is not there waiting for me I’ll be really mad.”