LIVING with dignity
If you read back in my blog (Waaaaaaay back, like the first few entries) I went on about Terri Shivo and her right to die with dignity. I still firmly beleive everything I said back then. It is part of who I am...
In the last few days however, I have been thinking along another plane. While everyone should have the right to die with their dignity intact, everyone should also be allowed to LIVE with dignity.
Case in point... I rode the elevator with a woman yesterday who was pushing an empty wheelchair. She was frantic to get out of that elevator, announcing to everyone that her friend shouldn't be walking such long distances and she was coming to her rescue with this wheelchair. As she got off the elevator and almost ran people down trying to get to her friend, her friend was merrily mosying along the corridor, doing just fine, thank you. When speedy wheelchair lady met up with her friend, there was a loving yet terse discussion. It included the phrases "I don't need no damn wheel chair" and " If I get too tired and fall down, it's my own damn fault." Huzzah for you, Lady. Live your life. Walk that long hallway if you want. Refuse the ride if you want. She was living her life with the dignity that her well meaning friend was trying to take from her.
I remember taking my mom to Florida a few months before she died. We had a long walk from gate to gate in the Atlanta airport (HUGE!) and not a lot of time to get from point A to point B. I talked her into letting me give her a ride in a wheelchair for a few reasons...
1. to save her strength for the days ahead while we visited with her folks.
2. so we could carry all the carry on items we had between us (pre 9/11 you could take a small herd of goats on a plane with you as long as you could haul them all with ya)
3. because she was sick. She had ovarian cancer, her feet were swollen to unnatural sizes, and she was tired.
She relented and allowed me to push her through the busy airport but put her foot down about our arrival in Ft. Myers. "They WILL NOT see me in a wheel chair." she said rather sternly (as stern as my mom could be). OK, I could go along with that. She walked through that airport at a brisk pace, and then realised she needed to slow down. She didn't want to be huffing and puffing when we met them in baggage claim. She chose to sit down for a few minutes when I conveniently noticed a bathroom and claimed I needed to pee (anyone who knows me at all knows I could go DAYS without peeing). I farted around in there as long as I reasonably could (Pun intended; Mom would be proud) and we were off again, at a slower pace, to the baggage claim area. She walking into that cavernous room with her head held high, her brilliant smile sparkling on her face and her dignity intact. Huzzah!
I have the sweetest little old man for a patient tonight. He is a 76 year old Greek man, barely 5 feet tall and with a sly smile. He is bleeding from somewhere, but the doctors can seem to pinpoint the exact place. He is frustrated, frightened and just plain tired of all the poking and prodding. He told the Doctors he wants to go home and eat ravioli (Greek guy eating Italian). They tell him he could go home and eat ravioli but he will continue to bleed and may die. "But, I'd die with a full belly, right? What's so bad about that?" Yeah Doc, what's so bad about that? Give him his dignity back. Forget your garden hoses that you want to put in places where no flowers have ever grown, this man wants ravioli and he wants his dignity back.
I remember a man, face mis-shapen from multiple cancer surgeries practicing over and over and over again the phrase "Her mother and I". When the preacher asked "Who gives this woman to be married to this man today", he wanted to say it loud and proud. He did it, everyone else cried, but for that day, he lived with dignity. I miss my sister-in-law's father very much. He was a very kind and brave man. I imagine him and my son doing some wild things together. I will never forget hearing him repeat endlessly "Her mother and I". Not an easy task through your tear let alone when you only have 20% of your tongue.
Let them live with dignity! It's hard, we mean well, but we take it away from them when we insist on them taking a ride, when we won't give up looking for answers when all they want is ravioli, when they struggle to say 4 easy words. Rejoice in their achievements, their independence. Let them LIVE!
In the last few days however, I have been thinking along another plane. While everyone should have the right to die with their dignity intact, everyone should also be allowed to LIVE with dignity.
Case in point... I rode the elevator with a woman yesterday who was pushing an empty wheelchair. She was frantic to get out of that elevator, announcing to everyone that her friend shouldn't be walking such long distances and she was coming to her rescue with this wheelchair. As she got off the elevator and almost ran people down trying to get to her friend, her friend was merrily mosying along the corridor, doing just fine, thank you. When speedy wheelchair lady met up with her friend, there was a loving yet terse discussion. It included the phrases "I don't need no damn wheel chair" and " If I get too tired and fall down, it's my own damn fault." Huzzah for you, Lady. Live your life. Walk that long hallway if you want. Refuse the ride if you want. She was living her life with the dignity that her well meaning friend was trying to take from her.
I remember taking my mom to Florida a few months before she died. We had a long walk from gate to gate in the Atlanta airport (HUGE!) and not a lot of time to get from point A to point B. I talked her into letting me give her a ride in a wheelchair for a few reasons...
1. to save her strength for the days ahead while we visited with her folks.
2. so we could carry all the carry on items we had between us (pre 9/11 you could take a small herd of goats on a plane with you as long as you could haul them all with ya)
3. because she was sick. She had ovarian cancer, her feet were swollen to unnatural sizes, and she was tired.
She relented and allowed me to push her through the busy airport but put her foot down about our arrival in Ft. Myers. "They WILL NOT see me in a wheel chair." she said rather sternly (as stern as my mom could be). OK, I could go along with that. She walked through that airport at a brisk pace, and then realised she needed to slow down. She didn't want to be huffing and puffing when we met them in baggage claim. She chose to sit down for a few minutes when I conveniently noticed a bathroom and claimed I needed to pee (anyone who knows me at all knows I could go DAYS without peeing). I farted around in there as long as I reasonably could (Pun intended; Mom would be proud) and we were off again, at a slower pace, to the baggage claim area. She walking into that cavernous room with her head held high, her brilliant smile sparkling on her face and her dignity intact. Huzzah!
I have the sweetest little old man for a patient tonight. He is a 76 year old Greek man, barely 5 feet tall and with a sly smile. He is bleeding from somewhere, but the doctors can seem to pinpoint the exact place. He is frustrated, frightened and just plain tired of all the poking and prodding. He told the Doctors he wants to go home and eat ravioli (Greek guy eating Italian). They tell him he could go home and eat ravioli but he will continue to bleed and may die. "But, I'd die with a full belly, right? What's so bad about that?" Yeah Doc, what's so bad about that? Give him his dignity back. Forget your garden hoses that you want to put in places where no flowers have ever grown, this man wants ravioli and he wants his dignity back.
I remember a man, face mis-shapen from multiple cancer surgeries practicing over and over and over again the phrase "Her mother and I". When the preacher asked "Who gives this woman to be married to this man today", he wanted to say it loud and proud. He did it, everyone else cried, but for that day, he lived with dignity. I miss my sister-in-law's father very much. He was a very kind and brave man. I imagine him and my son doing some wild things together. I will never forget hearing him repeat endlessly "Her mother and I". Not an easy task through your tear let alone when you only have 20% of your tongue.
Let them live with dignity! It's hard, we mean well, but we take it away from them when we insist on them taking a ride, when we won't give up looking for answers when all they want is ravioli, when they struggle to say 4 easy words. Rejoice in their achievements, their independence. Let them LIVE!
posted by Angela | 02:56
1 Comments:
I was thinking along these lines today. I've been laid up with something or other for almost a month (a bad cold, an allergic reaction to something I ate) and I ended up thinking of what I'd be like if I were sick all the time. I was wondering if I'd be a sniveling, apologetic wreck, or whether I'd learn to live with it. And that would mean learning how to live all over again, wouldn't it? I can't say I get it, but I'm pondering its implications.
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