A few of the
comments posted here have gotten me thinking about my own mortality,
and how well I've come to terms with it. I know this is a very
difficult subject for some of us, but I thought I'd post a few of my
own thoughts, and see if others want to share theirs.
Briefly, I have
so-called end-stage COPD and I had a pulmonary embolism and
congestive heart failure about two years ago. I'm on warfarin and
metroplolol for the duration, but my heart has recovered pretty well
and there's no sign of any more clotting. My BP and cholesterol
levels are very healthy. I'm on oxygen and not very active
physically, but I'm now doing daily exercise routines, and I remain
mentally active. I live with my partner and two teenage boys who I
drive to and from school everyday. If we ignore the elephant in the
room, I guess I'm reasonably healthy, active and engaged. I have
down days and occasional bad moments, but I'm very far from clinical
depression.
I turned 70 last
fall. This is the Biblical three-score-and-ten, so I recon I'm now
on overtime. If I die tonight, it can't be said that I was somehow
cheated. But I'm still enjoying life, and I'd rather stick around
awhile longer. And I think how one feels about this makes a
difference. My grandfather, who died in 1963, said he never wanted
to turn 70 because that was “old.” He was overweight, worked in
an office, drank, and one week before his 70
th birthday he
cut the grass on a Friday evening, then dropped dead from a heart
attack the next morning. It makes me wonder....
I did my own funeral
planning awhile back. I encourage everyone to do this. I cannot
imagine how hard, or how vulnerable, your loved ones will be if they
have to make those decisions in the throes of shock and grief. When
I go, my partner (or the hospital/hospice) only needs to make one
phone call, and the program will start running. As my grandmother
always said, “Clean up your own mess.”
Live long and
prosper!