One of the joys of being laid off lies in the time to read and think about what I've read. It's been a long time since I've had the time to carefully read and digest something that interests me.
In fact, it's been so long that I have developed habits that are hard to defeat. I've become use to devouring a piece quickly and moving on to the next data source with little or no time for reflection on what I've read and how it fits in the larger picture some of us call a world view. As a consequence, at least for me, my worldview tends to get fuzzy and in need of repair on a regular basis. What do I really believe? Why? How do I work new knowledge into what I already know, especially if it is contradictory yet believable? With precious little time for this hard work it's not hard to understand why so many of us tend to be mentally and intellectually fractured, frazzled, and fuzzy.
So anyway, I just finished reading an article by Connie Barlow, "Death, Budgets, and Intergenerational Justice" (http://bit.ly/pqFR77). Ms Barlow argues that our medical system guarantees long life, lived in awful conditions and at great expenese for many of us. She argues that we need to have the courage to meet our end with joy and without needless, expensive artificial extension.
Got me to thinking about 'ends.' We all experience as we grow, HS graduation, college graduation, end of child bearing age, end of a marriage, loss of a friend or loved one. Barlow argues that as a society we are afraid of our own final end and that is reflected in our medical extension of life - often absent any quality or purpose.
That sure seemed to fit my dad's end. Dad died of Parkinson's disease and over about a five or six year period I watched a 6'1" Marine's Marine shrivel physically and mentally. While he maintained a certain mental acuity, he also suffered from afternoon disorientation. At one point early on, he wandered out into the back yard, fell, could not get up, and only by the grace of God, did we discover him before he died of exposure. After that we watched him like a hawk to prevent another re-occurence and to prevent him from taking the car and hurting himself and someone else. Barlow observes that in days gone by, loved ones might let someone in dad's condition wander off for a 'natural' death and that was more humane than extending life without quality and at horrendous cost.
I was also reminded of the prolonged, heartbreaking passing of one of my most influential mentors. This Marine suffered a stroke on the operating table and spent almost a year completely paralyzed and unable to speak. I remember several conversations with this giant in my life where we both agreed that we didn't want to be kept alive artificially. Yet he lingered for over a year, mind active, but trapped in a useless body. Ugh.
That brings us to the threshold of the huge debate about whether or not the medical profession or government should play a role in those decisions. It's not my purpose to address that here.
What I do want to address is fairly simply stated. It's my prayer that my wife and children will afford me the luxury of dying without unnatural life extension or heroic efforts. I don't want to linger without purpose or quality of life, I don't want to be a burden. So if I contract Parkinson's and tend to wander in the afternoons. Let me go, let me die with dignity...please.
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