Medical Aid in Dying

In 1999 my father was diagnosed with gastroesophageal cancer. He had a steadfast, almost religious, belief in the power of Western medicine and specifically of doctors. He went through radiation, chemo, and scores of tests, and against the mounting evidence of metastases, continued to believe that he would get better. When he was finally hospitalized on a sunny December morning, he thought he was going to get better. We all knew he wasn't. The worst part was this disconnect, the denial, the defiance of death. It meant we couldn't be real, say real things, properly say goodbye.

My mother watched all this, ragged from months of hospital trips, sleepless nights, and a tooth abscess, and decided this wasn't how she wanted to go.

Twenty-six years later, she availed herself of Maine's Medical Aid in Dying law, Death with Dignity. She had survived stage-three colon cancer and lived for a long time with heart disease, which throughout the summer worsened. When she was told the end was near, she jumped into palliative care and hospice and, once offered, into the Death With Dignity option. The speed with which the decision was taken and the series of events that ensued were somewhat stunning to us, her children, but we were united in our respect of her wishes.

This is obviously not for everyone, but our mother's determination, courage, and ice-cold clarity made it very easy for us, her children and grandchildren, to support her.  The process itself -- getting sign-offs from two physicians, signing a witnessed statement that this was what she wanted, picking up the medications -- was seamless (if a bit surreal), giving her (and thus, us) a peaceful, painless death with nothing but relief for her -- everyone in the room felt it. The fact that there was an appointed date meant loved ones could travel even from overseas to be there. Caz the volunteer was amazing: empathic, gentle, present but no more than needed. 

If you're thinking of this as a possible end for you: a) learn as much as you can, especially about what dying in hospital actually means; b) be very clear in your understanding; c) convey your wishes in a clear way to your loved ones; d) be clear about who you'd like to be present, and especially, who you'd like not to be (appoint a gatekeeper). If you have the inclination, write your own obituary (a good time to update it is every year on your birthday).

If you were given 30 seconds to share...

something you care passionately about, what would you say?

The Background

Every chance I get, I go to Creative Mornings New York, live and in person. The speakers are amazing, the folks that show up are friendly and all in. It’s always great experience.

Ami Dar, the founder of idealist.org, was the speaker a few weeks ago. I was curious to hear about his latest project. As I filled out my name tag, I saw the opportunity to enter my name into the drawing for a 30-second pitch on stage in front of about 350 people at the CUNY Graduate Center in NYC. You can pitch whatever you like–your latest project, that you’re looking for new work, you’re looking for a date, you name it, it’s all fair game. I couldn’t imagine what I would talk about. When I said that out loud, one of the volunteers said, “Well, you have time to think about it during the presentation.” I tossed my slip of paper into the pitchwheel, not knowing what I would talk about. I walked back to a colleague of mine and mused about it. What would I talk about if chosen?

The Challenge

Just a few minutes later, as we sat in the large auditorium, my name was called! I was stunned. I had nothing to write with except my iPad, Apple Pencil, a pen, and a small square napkin from the breakfast treats. I wasn’t going to bring an iPad on stage and yet I felt I had to have some notes. 

The Result

So, I wrote and drew on the front and the back of a napkin… choosing one of my passions, which is, living my life fully by recognizing my mortality. I began…

“When I become stardust, I want to have loved well, lived well, and left the world a better place. I can do that by recognizing my mortality. Life is a gift! My passion is for life – all of it. I am all about making every moment count. We will never have this time again. My gift to you is this request—embrace it all, all of your life. If you're into talking about celebrating life by talking about death and dying, my offer is, I’m listening.”

To my surprise and delight, people shared their appreciation for my death positive message. About a half dozen folks spent time talking with me afterward. My thinking—people are hungry for these important conversations. If you’re so inclined, reach out to me—we’ll chat. 

Grief Surrounds Us: It's OK

This cartoon is an illustration of a Globe and Mail First Person story by Dr. Mary Ellen Macdonald: https://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/first-person/article-yard-sales-are-often-about-grieving-not-just-good-deals/

Dr. Macdonald is a professor with the Palliative Medicine division at Dalhousie University. 

Despite her long-standing professional research into issues surrounding grief she, like all of us, describes how in this instance she missed the grief cues right in front of her and that surround us every day.

The field of "Grief Literacy" seeks to help people and society surface and understand the experience of grief that is normal in any life. 

There is a great need for all of us to support each other in grief and remove its hidden nature.

Of course, visuals themselves surface the nuances and impacts of emotions in ways other story-telling cannot. That's why I champion the work of VEOLI.