On Death & Dying

“You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough."- Mae West

Nothing gets you thinking about your mortality like a dose of cancer. We know our time here is limited, but we don’t know when the Reaper will be knocking on the door. Perhaps the Grim guy has tried to touch you in the past? The time you were on a two lane road and some speeding idiot passes, cuts you off, forcing you to swerve into oncoming traffic. Your heart was in your mouth, your knuckles white on the steering wheel as you maneuver back into your lane safely before a narrowly missed head-on collision. Your first thought is, “Whew. That was close.” Followed by, “I hope you die, Jackass!”

Perhaps you weren’t even aware that death may be imminent? You live another day not knowing. Would you prefer it be a surprise or know you are drawing your last breath? 

My Dad died in his recliner. He hadn’t been feeling well all day and told Mom to call 911. The medics came, checked him out and couldn’t determine any issues. They left. A couple of hours later, he died. It was quick. If he was in pain, it was brief.

My Mom had dementia. It was a very long, slow death. The woman I loved became a stranger. She eventually no longer recognized or remembered she had a fifth child. This was extremely painful for me. How could she forget me? Her baby? My mother-in-law had a similar experience with her own mother. She told me, “This is harder for you than for her.” True. Mom was well-cared for and her forgetfulness did not upset her. When I visited, she was happy to have a visitor. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know who I was. I would take my tablet and show her pictures of family. She enjoyed looking at them, but never asked who those people were. I didn’t press her to try and remember. Eventually, she stopped talking. When visiting, she was rarely awake. Did she dream? Did she have moments of clarity, but could no longer express her thoughts? When she passed, I experienced a mixture of sadness and relief. Sad that she was physically gone, but relieved because she had mentally died years ago. I gave the eulogy at her funeral. Her children and grandchildren provided their favorite memory. She continues to live on in the memories of those she loved.

My husband, Larry, had a few minutes of being dead when he had a cardiac arrest in our living room a few years ago. I called 911 and started CPR. (Something everyone should learn.) When the medics arrived, he was not breathing and looking bluish. They applied the paddles multiple times before they got a heart rhythm. I could tell by their expressions they thought he was a goner. When he was admitted to the cardiac unit, they packed him in ice to prevent any possible brain damage due to loss of oxygen. The head of cardiology told me he would be in cryotherapy for 24 hours. Then they would slowly start to raise his temperature. Then what? The cardiologist said “If he wakes up…” That’s all I heard—if he wakes up. He thought he was a goner, too. Thankfully, he did wake up and is doing well today. The cardio team was amazed. They determined it was my administering CPR so quickly saved his life. (You’re welcome, Dear.) Since he was briefly dead, someone asked him if he had a near death experience or visions; a bright light, message from a supreme being, visits from dead relatives? Nope. Nothing. So what does that mean? Maybe the light wasn’t working? Ironic for a guy that had a career as a stage electrician. Maybe the supreme and relatives were busy that day? 

I personally have had one known instance that death was trying to touch me. And the odd thing is, I didn’t care. It didn’t frighten me. I recall thinking, “This is it, I guess. Oh well, it’s been swell.” Of course, when I survived, my first thought was, “Jeezopete! I almost DIED?!” The funny thing is that feeling that dying wouldn’t be such a scary event has stayed with me. However, if today I see a black-robed figure with a bony finger reaching towards me, I would beat the crap out of him. “Back off, Dude, I’m not finished here yet.”