Good To The Last Drop
It is long overdue. It really needs to be done. We should not procrastinate anymore. We need to draw up our advanced directives.
Over the years, Mike and I have had multiple discussions on the project, but we have yet to get it done. I find it a rather difficult subject. Every time I imagine being at the brink of death, having to say my last goodbye to Mike and my family, I get so overcome by emotions that I cry till I throw up. It is hard to carry on a conversation when your head is hanging over the toilet bowl.
As a rational, logical person of reasonably good health, I know enough to say that I want to live a meaningful life with dignity. "Don't let me hang around in a vegetative state. If I cannot communicate with the outside world, what is the point of lingering around? If I am totally dependent on external life support, I cannot even take care of myself anymore, I don't want to become a burden to my loved ones . . ."
Unfortunately, it is not that simple.
What if I fall into a coma after some accident, but I can breathe on my own? How long should people wait for me to wake up before they call it? There have been stories of people who are supposedly in comas but then miraculously wake up years later. A young man in the UK was trapped in his body for 12 years not being able to communicate with the world. Little did people know that he actually could hear everything going on around him, just that he could not get out of the state he was in. "I hope you die," his mom said to her irresponsive son, not knowing that her son could actually hear and understand every word she said.
A singer in Hong Kong thought she was just going to take a nap, but ended up sleeping for 16 years. She could hear people talk. Just that she was too sleepy to wake up. At the end, she woke up because someone told her that her mom was dying. By then, her husband had long gone. Her young son who was a kindergartener had already graduated from university.
If I were to ever fall into a coma, for how long should my family wait before they give up on me? What if I am one of these cases and I am actually aware and conscious inside? Shouldn't I give myself a chance? But then my family must be heartbroken to see me in this condition and have to continue to care for me every day. How does one balance all these concerns???
A recent episode of my favorite radio show Hidden Brain is about end of life decisions. As they pointed out, the way a person thinks may change dramatically as death becomes more imminent. What we say we want, as a healthy, happy person, may be very far from what we desire when we become gravely ill. I can totally believe that.
Listen to NPR's Hidden Brain: [The Ventilator: Life, Death And The Choices We Make At The End]
In 1990, during the course of my chemotherapy, I was down with some kind of infection. I had a temperature of 106.5˚F. I told my mom to turn on the lights because it was getting dark -- even though the lights were already all brightly on. I was rushed to the hospital and I stayed there for several days.
The hospital was just spitting distance away from apartment buildings across the street. I sat on the side of my hospital bed to watch other people live their healthy, normal lives every night. I remember watching a family sing karaoke together happily in front of their TV. These horrible singers were screaming their lungs out, but they were very happy. Normally, I would pay to avoid the torture of having to listen to such "singing". That evening, however, I really enjoyed watching their karaoke party. "I wish I could do what they were doing." I thought to myself. Even after the party was over, I did not go to sleep because I feared I might not wake up the next day. To be honest, many nights during my cancer treatment, I stayed up until I was totally exhausted for the exact same reason.
I was once a depressed kid who hated life. I could not get out of bed for school exams. All of a sudden, because of my condition, I was dying to suck up every single drop of life I could get. If this was the case, when I become terminally ill, what wouldn't I do to stay alive?
Over the years, Mike and I have had multiple discussions on the project, but we have yet to get it done. I find it a rather difficult subject. Every time I imagine being at the brink of death, having to say my last goodbye to Mike and my family, I get so overcome by emotions that I cry till I throw up. It is hard to carry on a conversation when your head is hanging over the toilet bowl.
As a rational, logical person of reasonably good health, I know enough to say that I want to live a meaningful life with dignity. "Don't let me hang around in a vegetative state. If I cannot communicate with the outside world, what is the point of lingering around? If I am totally dependent on external life support, I cannot even take care of myself anymore, I don't want to become a burden to my loved ones . . ."
Unfortunately, it is not that simple.
What if I fall into a coma after some accident, but I can breathe on my own? How long should people wait for me to wake up before they call it? There have been stories of people who are supposedly in comas but then miraculously wake up years later. A young man in the UK was trapped in his body for 12 years not being able to communicate with the world. Little did people know that he actually could hear everything going on around him, just that he could not get out of the state he was in. "I hope you die," his mom said to her irresponsive son, not knowing that her son could actually hear and understand every word she said.
A singer in Hong Kong thought she was just going to take a nap, but ended up sleeping for 16 years. She could hear people talk. Just that she was too sleepy to wake up. At the end, she woke up because someone told her that her mom was dying. By then, her husband had long gone. Her young son who was a kindergartener had already graduated from university.
If I were to ever fall into a coma, for how long should my family wait before they give up on me? What if I am one of these cases and I am actually aware and conscious inside? Shouldn't I give myself a chance? But then my family must be heartbroken to see me in this condition and have to continue to care for me every day. How does one balance all these concerns???
A recent episode of my favorite radio show Hidden Brain is about end of life decisions. As they pointed out, the way a person thinks may change dramatically as death becomes more imminent. What we say we want, as a healthy, happy person, may be very far from what we desire when we become gravely ill. I can totally believe that.
Listen to NPR's Hidden Brain: [The Ventilator: Life, Death And The Choices We Make At The End]
In 1990, during the course of my chemotherapy, I was down with some kind of infection. I had a temperature of 106.5˚F. I told my mom to turn on the lights because it was getting dark -- even though the lights were already all brightly on. I was rushed to the hospital and I stayed there for several days.
The hospital was just spitting distance away from apartment buildings across the street. I sat on the side of my hospital bed to watch other people live their healthy, normal lives every night. I remember watching a family sing karaoke together happily in front of their TV. These horrible singers were screaming their lungs out, but they were very happy. Normally, I would pay to avoid the torture of having to listen to such "singing". That evening, however, I really enjoyed watching their karaoke party. "I wish I could do what they were doing." I thought to myself. Even after the party was over, I did not go to sleep because I feared I might not wake up the next day. To be honest, many nights during my cancer treatment, I stayed up until I was totally exhausted for the exact same reason.
I was once a depressed kid who hated life. I could not get out of bed for school exams. All of a sudden, because of my condition, I was dying to suck up every single drop of life I could get. If this was the case, when I become terminally ill, what wouldn't I do to stay alive?
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