This is taken from an article "How Doctors Die" by Dr. Ken Murray.
Summary: Torch had the choice to be treated and prolong his life by four
months. He went untreated and lived for eight months, and had a memorable
time with his cousin.
Several years ago, my older cousin Torch (born at home by the light of a flashlight—or
torch) had a seizure that turned out to be the result of lung cancer that had gone to his
brain. I arranged for him to see various specialists, and we learned that with aggressive
treatment of his condition, including three to five hospital visits a week for
chemotherapy, he would live perhaps four months. Ultimately, Torch decided against
any treatment and simply took pills for brain swelling. He moved in with me.
We spent the next eight months doing a bunch of things that he enjoyed, having fun
together like we hadn’t had in decades. We went to Disneyland, his first time. We’d
hang out at home. Torch was a sports nut, and he was very happy to watch sports and
eat my cooking. He even gained a bit of weight, eating his favorite foods rather than
hospital foods. He had no serious pain, and he remained high-spirited. One day, he
didn’t wake up. He spent the next three days in a coma-like sleep and then died. The
cost of his medical care for those eight months, for the one drug he was taking, was
about $20.
Torch was no doctor, but he knew he wanted a life of quality, not just quantity. Don’t
most of us? If there is a state of the art of end-of-life care, it is this: death with dignity.
As for me, my physician has my choices. They were easy to make, as they are for most
physicians. There will be no heroics, and I will go gentle into that good night. Like my
mentor Charlie. Like my cousin Torch. Like my fellow doctors
Summary: Torch had the choice to be treated and prolong his life by four
months. He went untreated and lived for eight months, and had a memorable
time with his cousin.
Several years ago, my older cousin Torch (born at home by the light of a flashlight—or
torch) had a seizure that turned out to be the result of lung cancer that had gone to his
brain. I arranged for him to see various specialists, and we learned that with aggressive
treatment of his condition, including three to five hospital visits a week for
chemotherapy, he would live perhaps four months. Ultimately, Torch decided against
any treatment and simply took pills for brain swelling. He moved in with me.
We spent the next eight months doing a bunch of things that he enjoyed, having fun
together like we hadn’t had in decades. We went to Disneyland, his first time. We’d
hang out at home. Torch was a sports nut, and he was very happy to watch sports and
eat my cooking. He even gained a bit of weight, eating his favorite foods rather than
hospital foods. He had no serious pain, and he remained high-spirited. One day, he
didn’t wake up. He spent the next three days in a coma-like sleep and then died. The
cost of his medical care for those eight months, for the one drug he was taking, was
about $20.
Torch was no doctor, but he knew he wanted a life of quality, not just quantity. Don’t
most of us? If there is a state of the art of end-of-life care, it is this: death with dignity.
As for me, my physician has my choices. They were easy to make, as they are for most
physicians. There will be no heroics, and I will go gentle into that good night. Like my
mentor Charlie. Like my cousin Torch. Like my fellow doctors
Being witness to a woman who died of stomach cancer was a valuable lesson to us.
ReplyDelete1 week before her death on Valentime's Day, her husband invited all who knew her to the house for Mass, conducted by Father Lawrence, the priest who headed the World Meditation Centre.
Patricia looked shocking, weak and fragile, with all her nails turning black from chemo, yet her smile never left her face, serene with acceptance of death, all ready to meet her Maker, God Almighty.
Before Mass was conducted, everyone of us went up to hug her for the last time, strangely it's the huggers who were in tears, not Patricia. We knew her time was up, but her smile never left her face.
She died serene and with such dignity and acceptance.
Patricia was the wife of Peter Ng,
CEO of GIC.
For a Buddhist who suffers from terminal illness, it is not a big issue. Usual advice are:
ReplyDelete"let go..let go..no grasp of life (fen xia, bu yao zi zhou)."
"Physically painful, mind never sick and felt pain"
" Do meditation, do good and reincanation for better future life", Apple co-founder Steve Jobs did it.
" Recite mantra and reincanation at pure land.." Most Chinese/Tibet Buddhist did it.
Taking care of end stage patient need a lot of money, mental stamina and support of every family members.
ReplyDeleteMost of the families are not "equipped" to face this kind of situation.