Today, at age 60, I still feel young and vigorous. When I think about death
it is usually in terms of those in their 80s or 90s. But I also have friends,
my age and younger, who are struggling with cancer or other life-threatening
diseases. My mother had a major stroke when she was just four years older than
I am. She lived another nine years, spending her days in a wheelchair, struggling
to make herself understood. I wondered how this vigorous energetic woman, so
incapacitated by her health, could still decide to live. Unfortunately, if I
had asked her point blank, her broken
speech would have left both of us frustrated. And so I don't know what, if anything,
made her life worthwhile for those last years in a nursing home. Yet something
did until one night, after a weekend where she had seen all her loved ones,
she died quietly, and I believe purposefully, in her
sleep.
It seems to me life is hard to live if there is no joy or hope. I was therefore intrigued to learn that distinguished author and critic Carolyn Heilbrun solemnly vowed to end her life when she turned sixty.” I couldn't imagine making that decision unless I had some debilitating or terminal illness. When Heilbrun approached sixty, she changed her mind, and her book is a testimonial to the riches which may be found in old age.
Yet Heilbrun does not conclude that growing older is necessarily positive. She writes: “I am sharply aware that people do, more and more often these days, live past eighty and many of them are reported to live productive, satisfying lives. But many more fall into indifference. Writing in the New York Times magazine, Michael Norman described the life of his 88-year-old aunt. “It’s no good, “ he reported her as saying. “I’m living too long already. What’s the point?’”
Heilbrun continues, “This harsh question, what’s the point? is judged by some as cruel, unacceptable in our culture. Heilbrun says that to her this is a very real question. I agree.
Each of us will be a different age when we get to the question, “what’s the point?” But I think for many of us age is a key factor. With rare exceptions, life after 85 seems to bring more health problems, less joy. In the past six months, the discussions I have had with Hap, my spouse, about living too long have become more personal. Like many of our friends and colleagues, we have parents in their 80’s. Hap’s parents were doing fairly well until the last year or two. His father had suffered a stroke when he was 77, but for the following ten years his health remained relatively stable. Then small and not so small health problems began to appear for both. Life suddenly had more negatives than positives.
This past year found both of them in the hospital at the same time, followed by a stint in a nursing home. We discovered their health care and long-term retirement planning was inadequate. They moved back home with round-the clock nursing care, a very expensive and therefore impossible long-term option. We knew Dad was discouraged and worried about becoming a burden.
Just a month after moving back home, my father in law died. In his last conversation with Hap, just hours before his death, he said. “ I’m just so tired! You shouldn’t have to live this long.”
So far, my Dad has more positives going for him at age 85. Life
is still rich for him. But he, too, has been diagnosed with diabetes and prostate
cancer in the past three years. He has taken appropriate medical action and
also has altered eating habits and increased his level of physical
activity, but I know he would not want to live if he became incapacitated.
One of my oldest friends, aged 93, also makes me realize calendar
years are not always a good indication of when living is no longer a good choice.
She is vigorous, her mind is as sharp as ever and she enjoys life. Her move
10 years ago to a senior community has given her a lively circle of
friends and her social life sometimes makes mine look dull. She recently opted
for a revision of previous hip surgery because she didn’t want to end up using
a wheelchair. But the recovery was slower than she, her physician or family
hoped and two weeks after the surgery she suffered a heart attack. She would
have no part of another surgery which might extend her life.
What is discouraging is that the final choice is often not ours. If we do not find ourselves in a crisis situation, but instead develop Alzheimer’s or dementia, we may live on for years when life has no meaning and purpose to ourselves or to those who love us.
Sometimes it is the loved ones who are not ready to let go. It helped us to know Hap’s Dad was ready. He is dearly missed, but we know his last years were full of more of “what’s the point,” than joy and fun. He died peacefully and we think somewhat purposefully. I hope to have the same choice.
This was a difficult column to write. You are reading my seventh draft and still, I’m aware I’ve only touched the tip of the iceberg. End of life issues are not easy to discuss, or even think about, and yet they are issues that deeply touch many women’s lives. I invite you to help continue this conversation by writing to us about your own experiences, thoughts, and feelings.
Reprint permission granted by the Minnesota Women's Press April
12, 2000 - April 25, 2000
www.womenspress.com
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