How to Die in Oregon

As some of you may know, I'm writing a book about people who work with death in their professions.  While doing my research, I thought it would be interesting to meet someone who knew the day they were going to die.  There are only two people who know this date--people who choose to end their life and a person with an execution date on death row.  I chose to speak with someone on death row, as I felt it would be easier when their death might be "justified." Well, if you've read my blog or know me, that didn't exactly turn out as planned.  I was totally affected by this experience and am now totally against the death penalty.

Anyway, so last night I had the pleasure of watching a movie about terminally ill people in Oregon who choose to end their lives.  And yes, I said pleasure.  This is an important film, and although it was difficult to watch, I'm so glad I did.  Why?  Because anyone who watches this film will have a conversation about death and THIS IS AN IMPORTANT conversation to have.

The film, How to Die in Oregon opens with a home video of a terminally ill older man choosing to hasten his death by gulping down a lethal dose of Seconal mixed with warm water.  His family and a caseworker with Compassion and Choices are all present for his final exit.  It was quite an intro and I was startled to say the least.  It was kind of like that feeling when Drew Barrymore's character is killed in the first Scream.  If the director is going to kill off the biggest name actress in the first fifteen minutes of the film, nobody is safe. So if HTDIO starts right off with a death, I knew that I would inevitably be more emotionally invested in the characters as the film progressed. 
And I was.  There is a fairly large cast of characters and each person is struggling with end of life choices.  Something we all will do one day.

I don't want to give away the film, but the most difficult story line was that of Cody Curtis, a vibrant 54 year-old wife and mother of two who was diagnosed with inoperable liver cancer.  She is the "star" of this documentary.  We meet her family, her friends, and her doctor.  We get to witness her hopes and fears as her health declines.  The scene that really got me takes place in a beauty salon where Cody goes in for a final trim.  It was so hard to watch.  The film ends with the camera fixed on a window outside of Cody's house on the night she chooses to die.  We can hear what's going on inside the house.  The family sings, the drink is mixed and Cody comments about how "easy" it was. Fade to black.

I know I'm probably not going to get a ton of commentary on this topic, but I'd like for you to consider some of the thoughts that came into my mind as I watched this film.

Why should people have to suffer if they don't want to?  Heck, when we euthanize an animal, it's usually to end their suffering. 
Why does anyone have to "battle" a disease? Shouldn't they get to pick and choose their battles and surrender when they want to?

Dying is not a failure, it's an inevitability.  I talked to my 78 year-old Dad yesterday and we talked about his sister who died recently.  I asked him if he had any end of life wishes.  He said that when his life stopped being "fun" he'd drink a bottle of bourbon and go into his garage and start his car's engine.  Knowing my dad, he's not just being dramatic.  How sad is that that he wouldn't be able to exit his life in a more dignified manner?  A neighbor will inevitably discover him.  They will be traumatized.  His family will be traumatized.  So, how did I respond?  I said, "Dad, could you at least let me know if and when you plan on doing that so I can at least say goodbye and make sure you get cremated?"  He said he would.  Hey, I know it sounds weird, but at least it's a start.

I sincerely hope that everyone checks out this wonderful film.  It is currently playing on HBO till mid June.

Wake UP! To Death

A couple of weeks ago, I was interviewed by Melody Brooke for her show Wake Up! on Women's Radio.  You can listen to the interview here.

If you are a regular reader of my blog--and I say this with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek.  I check my stats, um, like hourly and I don't receive what you would call huge amounts of traffic--so this is my blog of shame.  Not that there is anything wrong with being on internet radio, but if you happened to read my former post about unplugging from social media for a week, you now have physical proof that I was unable to keep that promise.  It only took three days to make me stare at my computer screen like a junkie.  I was powerless against the allure of Facebook, Twitter, blogs--basically the entire internet in general.  I couldn't help myself.  I felt so alone, so disconnected from people's rants and meal choices and political views, not to mention Arnold's LOVE CHILD and I know I claimed that I felt alone when I was engaging in social media outlets, but it's a different kind of alone.  Trust me.

All I ask is that you please forgive me for my weakness.

So what did I do during my very brief hiatus?  I wrote.  Actually, I edited.  I read two books.  Yes, I did that in three days.  I'm a speed reading graduate of Evelyn Woods, thank you very much.  (Actually, that's a complete and total lie.)  I did lots of laundry.  I ironed some pants.  I ate lots of pep-o-mint life savers.  And then I cracked.

And now I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

I love you internet.  You are such a wonderful distraction from my life. In moderation, of course.  And no porn.

The end.

Pulling the Plug

Despite the name of this post and that it appears on a blog about death, this post is not about the decision to end a person's life by "pulling the plug."  If searching for reassurance or information about "pulling the plug" is how you ended up on this page, let me apologize.  The internet can bring you to a lot of weird places depending on your search terms.  So before you go, I'd like to wish you good luck with your search, but I'd also like for you to do something brave.  I'd like for you to ask a real, live person.  You know, face to face?  You could ask a doctor or a hospice nurse or a minister or a chaplain or a priest or your mom or your dad or maybe even your best friend.  Do it over coffee or a soda or maybe even water.  The only condition is that you are in the same room. Turn your phone off.  Same goes for the computer and the tv.  See what happens.

Are you still here?  Great.  If not, see ya, wouldn't want to be ya. 

Okay, so what is this post about?  It's about disconnection.  I don't know about you, but all these social media sites like Facebook, Linkedin, and Twitter are bringing me down.  In fact, I've never felt so alienated before and this is coming from a woman who used to eat her lunch in the library because she was afraid of the rejection that awaited her in the Junior High lunchroom.

For the past year, I've been seriously debating whether or not to continue down this path, but as a writer, I've been told that social media is a necessary evil.  How are people going to find out about you or follow you if they don't know about you? And my response is, what the hell happened to WORD OF MOUTH?  Like in, going out to eat with someone and saying, "I just read this really great essay in a print journal that I bought at a brick and mortar bookseller.  You should check it out.  It's funny and sad at the same time and I really think you'd dig it the most."  Am I crazy or what?  Ironically, I joined a hashtag discussion group on Twitter called #MYWANA or We Are Not Alone. 

We are totally alone.  Sorry.  And I hope that when you are on your death bed that there are people in the room to hold your hand.  Let's hope that condolences aren't tweeted at you or texted or that people don't announce your last breath on facebook for people to "like."  (Ultimately they will complain that FB needs a dislike button for this kind of news.)

I feel like Pavlov's dog as I check my @replies or see who "liked" my post on facebook.  I waste so much time on these sites looking for a little validation that I exist or that I matter.  And I despise this feeling.  I do matter.  Maybe I only matter to a few people, but that's okay.  If you want to de-friend me or unfollow me, so be it.  I am taking away its power for awhile and see what happens.  Next week, I'm going to unplug from all social media and see what happens.  My husband doesn't think I can do it.  There is money involved.

So what am I going to do?  I may enjoy a night with my family playing a game from a cardboard box.  Or I might meet someone for a cup of coffee.  If anything, I might actually get some writing done.  Alone.  Without anyone cheering.