THE DEATH WATCH-TWENTY-NINE

It’s Midnight of the Wednesday of the week of my Clinical Trial. It is referred to as day three of the trial based on the schedule I got that goes through January 2008. This was a relatively easy day, compared to Monday, since I only had to wait and have vitals taken every fifteen minutes for two hours after the infusion. I started the day with blood being drawn at 9:15AM and I was out of there by 2:00PM and home at 2:43PM, just as the school bus passed my driveway. I really felt, on balance, that I had had an easy day. I sat down and watched a movie with my little girl and settled into my regular TV chair about the time she was headed for her bath at 8:00PM. The next thing I remember was waking up at 11:15PM. I guess I was a lot more tired than I thought. Friday, which is scheduled to be a long day, might really wear me out so I’ve arranged for my son to come to the Clinic and drive me home. I have decided that I’m not a very good judge of my own weariness at this time. Part of it is the tightrope act I’m doing trying to balance the amount of painkiller I’m taking when I plan to drive myself. The amount of pain I have to endure in order to be able to drive myself is a lot more tiresome than I imagined.

Since my little evening nap has made it impossible to get to sleep now I thought I’d delve into some other thoughts I’ve lately had on this whole Death and Dying question. As I already mentioned, I was a bit taken aback by people’s reaction to my thoughts about my own death. I guess my problem is, and has been, my inability to see their perspective on my dying. The bottom line is that my loved-ones are more affected by my dying than I am since they have to deal with whatever transpires in their lives when I’m not here.

I am almost finished with a book titled, “What Remains” by Carole Radziwill, which is an autobiographical account of the time she and her husband spent “fighting” cancer during the first five years of their marriage. It has certainly opened my eyes to the sorts of things my loved ones are going through and will have to go through in the near future. My only means of supporting them now is to maintain my attitude and face death with pragmatic reality. I don’t want to fall back into the position of “Why me?” or dwell on my death as the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I do face daily challenges in trying to overcome the pain that this disease is imposing on my body but on the other hand I try not to dwell on these as a handicap that others may need to deal with. Looking back on these past few weeks I see where I have made some mistakes in dealing with family and friends and I hope that I can rectify these errors in judgment before I end up antagonizing everyone around me. Rather than trying to get everyone to understand that I am not afraid to die I have to have more sympathy with what they are going through. The entire concept of “Death & Dying” is not about the one who’s dying but rather about those he leaves behind. The memorial services that are conducted after a person dies are meant to appease the living, whose lives were touched by the one who died. The French have an expression, “Chacun a son gout”, which translates into, “Each to his own taste” and I interpret that to mean that everyone has to approach the memorial in his own way. My own approach to the death of a loved one was to always try to remember that person at the time when one had fond memories of that person.

I don’t think I have exhausted this topic so I will let it rest for now, to be continued as I get brain waves and friendly feedback. I realize that I have just spent in excess of an hour on this topic and I am ready to attempt sleep again. I plan to pursue this topic further in my reading and I hope to make my passing a better experience for those near and dear to me,