What's better...to know you are dying or to just drop?
I always get this question from families at one time or another and honestly, I don't know how to answer it. I believe there are things about both ways that can be appealing.
Last week, I had a patient that had been battling a terminal disease for almost three years. He knew that there wasn't a cure and he knew that eventually it was going to be his time. He would have a round of chemo, get knocked down and then get back up. He would do the things he loved, hang out with his family and cherish the time. At least, to hear it from the folks he left behind, that is what he did.
His last hospitalization did not go well and he had finally heard those words, "there is nothing more we can do." He immediately told his wife to take him home...do not stop at go, do not collect that $200, I want to be in my chair at home now." Being the amazing woman that she was, and that her family knew her to be, she took him home. When I met them, it was apparent that he was failing and didn't have time for small talk with me. He wanted his family close and my job was to make sure they had the tools to care for him at home with love and comfort.
So that's what I did. Thursday night, we got him home and in his chair with his family, his pain medication and his cigarettes. The kids (young adults with families of their own) stayed the night to help care for him and keep him safe and happy. It was a long night for the whole gang.
In the morning, everyone who needed to come to tell him good bye and farewell showed up. The house was full of folks with food and drink and music. They told stories of the patient and how much he meant to them. It was good but also bittersweet.
Then, as some folks were filtering out and others in, the grand kids showed up. They slowly walked in and got on the hospital bed next to Grandpa's chair. They had faces of confusion as they watched their "papa" dose off. I looked over to see my patients son sitting at his father's feet, talking to the kids in a quiet voice, explaining that papa was sick and has been for a long time and now it was time for him to go. They all looked at their grandfather waiting to see what he would do and he woke up, looked at them, and broke into a big smile. It was one of the sweetest times I have ever seen of a family and the love they shared. The little ones beamed as they watched "Papa" smile at them and the older ones just took a breath in and relaxed. Then, one by one, they gave him a little kiss on the cheek and the designated family member to care for the children took them home.
My patient's son was in tears as was the room. That was an intimate piece of time that was just exactly what was supposed to happen for "Papa" and for the kids. The chills ran down my spine and I knew I had just witnessed something profound. When I began to explain the signs that signify that death is coming, I asked the kids to make sure they had told their dad everything they wanted him to hear. One by one, they told me of the special times they had with him after the diagnosis and the connection and peace they had with him leaving them. They told him daily how much they loved and appreciated him. They said that they knew time was limited and didn't let anything be taken for granted when it came to letting Dad know they loved him. The kids were at peace. He passed quietly and comfortably in the night with his kids and wife around him as he left.
They called me in the morning and when I got there, the house was peaceful and organized...they had finished strong and just how "Papa" would have wanted it. They were sad and relieved and holding each other close as they went through the day. They were an amazing family.
So was that good? Would you rather that then just being here one day and gone the next. Still hard to say really....
But, when you think about it...limited time gives you is perspective. I think it makes you take stock of what you have and what you don't...of how you want to be remembered, and of how much you want others to know how much you love them. You can also take comfort in knowing how much they love you.
For instance, a few weeks ago, a patient's friend went skiing and had a heart attack on the ski slopes. He was an older gentleman and was with his family. I asked my friend about this question and she responded that she was sure that they had all their "accounts in order". Interesting way to put it but I understood what she meant. They were all together, celebrating Valentines day with the whole family and spending time together. Hopefully, they knew how much they loved each other and there wasn't much left unsaid...
The reality is that day to day life isn't so easy...to let by gone's by by gone's or to let things go that really bother you go. But, I think, it has to be a priority to tell the folks you love everyday that it is true. Even more important, is to tell the folks you still love them after a fight or a misunderstanding because that kind of thing can haunt you the rest of your life. I know...I have made some mistakes in that area and am convicted as I watch families love each other so completely at the end...
I believe the question isn't, is it better to know you are dying - but do all the people in your life that you cherish know how much they mean to you? That is the question to think about and make a change if they don't. As you and I know, life is both long and short...long when you are suffering and short when you know the end is near.
I would argue that for some of us, knowing the end is near will change us...to make amends and love hard and savor the love, the kisses and the closeness of those we love. The thing is, we never know...really...when the end is near, so why not try to do that more? To savor that kiss from our love, that time with our kids, our friends and our people... knowing it will be a memory some day and hopefully, a memory that we cherish and take comfort in.
Because, really, that is all we can do in this crazy world...love each other better, right?
We'll tawk tomorrow,
I love you all,
Terry
Last week, I had a patient that had been battling a terminal disease for almost three years. He knew that there wasn't a cure and he knew that eventually it was going to be his time. He would have a round of chemo, get knocked down and then get back up. He would do the things he loved, hang out with his family and cherish the time. At least, to hear it from the folks he left behind, that is what he did.
His last hospitalization did not go well and he had finally heard those words, "there is nothing more we can do." He immediately told his wife to take him home...do not stop at go, do not collect that $200, I want to be in my chair at home now." Being the amazing woman that she was, and that her family knew her to be, she took him home. When I met them, it was apparent that he was failing and didn't have time for small talk with me. He wanted his family close and my job was to make sure they had the tools to care for him at home with love and comfort.
So that's what I did. Thursday night, we got him home and in his chair with his family, his pain medication and his cigarettes. The kids (young adults with families of their own) stayed the night to help care for him and keep him safe and happy. It was a long night for the whole gang.
In the morning, everyone who needed to come to tell him good bye and farewell showed up. The house was full of folks with food and drink and music. They told stories of the patient and how much he meant to them. It was good but also bittersweet.
Then, as some folks were filtering out and others in, the grand kids showed up. They slowly walked in and got on the hospital bed next to Grandpa's chair. They had faces of confusion as they watched their "papa" dose off. I looked over to see my patients son sitting at his father's feet, talking to the kids in a quiet voice, explaining that papa was sick and has been for a long time and now it was time for him to go. They all looked at their grandfather waiting to see what he would do and he woke up, looked at them, and broke into a big smile. It was one of the sweetest times I have ever seen of a family and the love they shared. The little ones beamed as they watched "Papa" smile at them and the older ones just took a breath in and relaxed. Then, one by one, they gave him a little kiss on the cheek and the designated family member to care for the children took them home.
My patient's son was in tears as was the room. That was an intimate piece of time that was just exactly what was supposed to happen for "Papa" and for the kids. The chills ran down my spine and I knew I had just witnessed something profound. When I began to explain the signs that signify that death is coming, I asked the kids to make sure they had told their dad everything they wanted him to hear. One by one, they told me of the special times they had with him after the diagnosis and the connection and peace they had with him leaving them. They told him daily how much they loved and appreciated him. They said that they knew time was limited and didn't let anything be taken for granted when it came to letting Dad know they loved him. The kids were at peace. He passed quietly and comfortably in the night with his kids and wife around him as he left.
They called me in the morning and when I got there, the house was peaceful and organized...they had finished strong and just how "Papa" would have wanted it. They were sad and relieved and holding each other close as they went through the day. They were an amazing family.
So was that good? Would you rather that then just being here one day and gone the next. Still hard to say really....
But, when you think about it...limited time gives you is perspective. I think it makes you take stock of what you have and what you don't...of how you want to be remembered, and of how much you want others to know how much you love them. You can also take comfort in knowing how much they love you.
For instance, a few weeks ago, a patient's friend went skiing and had a heart attack on the ski slopes. He was an older gentleman and was with his family. I asked my friend about this question and she responded that she was sure that they had all their "accounts in order". Interesting way to put it but I understood what she meant. They were all together, celebrating Valentines day with the whole family and spending time together. Hopefully, they knew how much they loved each other and there wasn't much left unsaid...
The reality is that day to day life isn't so easy...to let by gone's by by gone's or to let things go that really bother you go. But, I think, it has to be a priority to tell the folks you love everyday that it is true. Even more important, is to tell the folks you still love them after a fight or a misunderstanding because that kind of thing can haunt you the rest of your life. I know...I have made some mistakes in that area and am convicted as I watch families love each other so completely at the end...
I believe the question isn't, is it better to know you are dying - but do all the people in your life that you cherish know how much they mean to you? That is the question to think about and make a change if they don't. As you and I know, life is both long and short...long when you are suffering and short when you know the end is near.
I would argue that for some of us, knowing the end is near will change us...to make amends and love hard and savor the love, the kisses and the closeness of those we love. The thing is, we never know...really...when the end is near, so why not try to do that more? To savor that kiss from our love, that time with our kids, our friends and our people... knowing it will be a memory some day and hopefully, a memory that we cherish and take comfort in.
Because, really, that is all we can do in this crazy world...love each other better, right?
We'll tawk tomorrow,
I love you all,
Terry
Comments
Never do we, as a family say "good-bye" either by text or phone or in person without saying, "I love you." Never. When we part in person, we hug and kiss each other as we say it to each other from the oldest down to the youngest babies. This is one of the truest glories of my life.
So...whichever way it happens, I think we will be good.
And hey Terry- guess what? I love you. I cherish you. Always.