That Dying Thing

 How do we know we are dying? Well, I guess the most honest answer is, “well, we don’t know, until we are nearly dead.” It seems that, barring a drastic thing like cancer, or being hit by a car, or a stray bullet, there is no definite signal. But there are lots of little signals. Like what? Oh, we are a little unsteady while walking. Or, when we bend over, we begin to acquire some dizziness. Or we experience some shortness of breath while walking or climbing.  Arguably, the continued introduction and use of various medical pills is also a good sign. See, we are trying artificially to maintain the body’s usual functional capabilities.

But all such signs could introduce themselves when we are 30, or 40. We don’t have to be 80 or 90. Now, I come from a family in which all members ceased existing by the latest 85. And my memories of those folks are always of “old people”. But, since they all died when I was still pretty young, all of my memories are those of 5-20 somethings observing 60 – 80 somethings.

But now, I’m 90 and my dear wife is 89. And we are still cranking ahead, even to working out several times a week.  We even have a weekly “Datenite”, when we go to our local brewpub and have a beer, some dinner, and some pleasant conversation with close friends. So, is that “Old”?  Well, not really, but we are now definitely “Old”.

But are we “Dying”? Well, yeah, of course, but aren’t we all?

But that isn’t what bothers me. No. What bothers me is having an idiot-malenfant as our President, during this maybe final stage of our lives.  See my first political memories are listening to the radio at maybe age 5 or 6, while FDR chatted to us. I actually and vividly remember FDR telling us about December 7^th and the Pearly Harbor bombing, that started WW II. Yeah, I sat on the floor in our Second Avenue, Manhattan railroad flat with the radio next to me on our front room floor and listened.

And now I have to pay attention to this fascist clown, who may be the dumbest human on the planet, lie to me about crowds gathering in LA. And that makes me scared   . . . scared that I might die before this idiot leaves our planet.  See, I’ve lived through a lot of Presidents. Think Nixon, and Shrub, and Reagan for heaven’s sake.  Course, we also had Ike, and Kennedy, and Truman, and Johnson. Were the latter all perfect? No, of course not, but they were genuinely trying to keep America safe and a decent place to live. Trump, on the other hand, doesn’t care. He wants only to be treated like a king. But he keeps acting like a nasty, spoiled little five-year-old, who is always whining and crying.

And so, I live, day by day, watching this idiot, and hoping maybe he will fall down the stairs and not recover. Horrible? Yep, I know. I’m awful, but I keep thinking about our Great Grandchildren and what kind of world they might have if this idiot doesn’t soon leave.  See, he is old enough to have a sudden heart attack. I mean, he is fat, as well as stupid. So, maybe we will luck out and he will experience a stroke, or some such. But can’t it happen while I am still breathing air on this planet of ours??? Yeah, so he goes out, and then I can relax. Oh, but one other thing??? Maybe a stroke or heart attack could mangle Vance as well. That would be nice.

So, breathe on folks. We all need to survive this idiot-malenfant. Smile, have a nice glass of wine. Breathe slowly and deeply, and smile . . . oh and sip on that wine. Yeah chill.

Life Ends Language

 “It’s not your fault. My father died in my arms. So did my wife,” he said. “It’s just my turn now.”

“I feel bad that I didn’t talk to you about this sooner,” I said. “I thought I’d upset you or maybe you weren’t ready yet.”

He laughed. “Ready?” he said. “I’ve wrapped my head around being dead, certainly. Not sure if I’ll ever really be ready. It’s not like packing a bag and standing outside waiting for a taxi.”

“He died in his sleep a month later, missing his vacation and his friend’s wedding. Even if he told me he was ready, nothing could have lessened the blunt force of losing him.”

 

This was from a Sunday NY Times article by Dr. Sunita Puri. In the article she talks about how doctors try to sense a patient’s readiness to die, that is, when they realize they are in the final stage of life and will soon die. The interesting thing to me is the question, “Why is that important?” To a doctor, the only point of importance here is that a patient who is “ready to die” is also finally ready to give up “end of life treatments”.  There really is no other issue that matters to the doctor, because doctors are no better prepared to talk about the actual Cessation of Life than anyone else. 

I wonder myself how I might become “ready to die”, given what I believe that means. See, I think that the end of life is not a journey, as when we say the person “has gone”, or “has departed”. Those words imply a journey, whereas I believe strongly that the end of life means only a cessation of the brain’s function. That is, when we die, our brain ceases operating, and we no longer are aware of anything. We do not know we are dead, because we do not know anything.  And that is hard to wrap one’s head around. We are not embarking on a final journey. Instead, we simply cease knowing anything. We are not even aware that we are dead, because we are not “aware” of anything. And see, we actually have no language that describes that state of Non-being.

What would it be like, for the brain to simply cease functioning? It is not like we are moving into a sort of dream-like state. Because see, a dream-like state implies that the brain continues to function, even if we do not move onto some cloud and begin looking down on our still-alive relatives.  And we do not suddenly come back into contact with all of our deceased relatives.

See, we have no language to describe what I believe actually happens. How does one describe  a state of “nothingness”, a state in which we are no longer aware of our former self, or in fact of anything.  Now that is hard to wrap your current lively head around.

So, I guess it is understandable that doctors do not have such a talk with their patients who express an understanding that their life is about to cease.  Why? Well, because the doctor also has no language to express what that means.  And, I guess that’s why they (our forebears) invented Heaven and Hell, and folks sitting around on clouds looking down while they played their harps.  The Heaven or Hell thing is obviously a device to get you to behave, or to pay proper attention to what this priest is telling you to do, or not to do. That’s their main tool in the Priestly Ponzi Scheme called Religion.

Now if the priests of our world need that Ponzi scheme portrait of “Life After”, our poor doctors are stuck without any serious explanation to offer their patients. As we said, the doctor’s only reason for a patient reaching such a state of understanding is that the doctor then has some guidance on “end of Life” care, which is known often as “Palliative Care”, whose aim only is to relieve suffering, so as to improve the quality of that final life stage. Maybe the medical profession needs some kind of “after-Life” language that is at least equal in some value to the Ponzi scheme language of religious purveyors. So, maybe the medical profession needs to step up their game to create a kind of “after-life” death description that seems more promising than “Nothingness”. Somehow, the reality of brain cessation seems at best difficult to convey in positive terms. So, docs need to become more inventive so as to at least compete with the religious purveyors.  Something that conveys a sense of final peace, like entering a long state of deep sleep. Yeah, that’s it. Just try not to get into anything like dreams, cuz then the docs would be competing with the Ponzi-guys.

So, Think On Docs. You need a new language. Put on your most creative brain caps and get to work. Maybe eventually, you too will be able to make it profitable, like those religious dudes. How to make "nothingness" sound desirable . . . hmmmm.