I Wish I May…

You’ve seen them. Perhaps a newspaper feature article on a local 100 year old, or a minor celebrity suddenly experiencing the harder side of life after having been diagnosed with an incurable (or even a curable) disease, or maybe even an ad for a home care agency home hospice program. What is it that that you’ve seen or heard or read? That earnest looking and sounding unfortunate soul baring his or her life to the camera, reporter, microphone, or ad agency saying “my one last wish, my most hopeful dream, the one thing I’m most looking forward to, is dying in my own bed. It’s what keeps me going.” Well I’ll tell you right now, if you ever hear me utter such nonsense just shoot me where I stand. Unless I’m standing in my own home, then take me across the street or at least out back first.

How bad does your life have to be that the only thing you’re looking forward to, the one thing you want most out of that life, your biggest dream for yourself, is to be dead. Yes, when you die in your own home you end up dead. Something we all realize we will someday be but something most people would not aspire to, brain-addled suicide bombers notwithstanding.

I don’t know what I want most out of my life. I know what I want out of my life most but those aren’t the same thing. My biggest dream probably depends on what’s annoying me most on a particular day. Too many therapists, too many phone calls, and way behind on sweepstakes entries – I dream of the solitude of an uninhabited (except for me, select guest(s), and a killer bartender) island. Too many healthy meals too many days in a row – pizza from a pizza shop known for as many toppings (please, pineapple is not a pizza topping under any circumstance) as one can humanly get to stay on a pizza crust.

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Not only does “die in my own bed” sound way too dramatic for the average Jo or Joe, it’s quite unfair to those who share that home or are expecting to have it on the real estate market next week. Dying in life (I’m not sure how else to phrase that) isn’t like dying in the movies. Most people don’t smile, say goodbye to the assembled group of friends and family, then nod off just as the last relative passes by. There are noises, smells, and often a lot of movement before and after the fact. There’s cleaning up to do and people to call like in the absence of home hospice, 911. I’d rather have understaffed nursing personnel handle the dirty details or more frankly the cleaning detail, than a loved family member. Of course if you are really annoyed at your family that day, well, who am I to judge?

If someone was to put a gun to my head and say I must come up with my one greatest wish or I’d get it right there I’d probably say to live at least one more day. It seems so much more wish worthy. I wonder if under the same circumstances those with that burning desire to die in their own beds would as calmly as they could, tell the gunman, “So, can you drive me home first?”

MisLabeled

Most of the time I’m a pretty positive person but this past week, so many things have come up that just make me so, so annoyed (!) that I have to rant about them. And not like the good natured rant I ranted last month (Looking Good) but a real “you’ve got to be kidding me” rant.

It started with the story about 24 candidates for a nursing degree who failed to pass a final exam thus not meeting the qualifications for graduation. Oddly enough, the school refused to graduate them. It did, however, offer them tutoring and 2 additional attempts to pass the failed test. Not good enough for poor widdle students who wanted either the passing grade lowered, or better yet, the test thrown out. Somehow they actually were able to amass over 300 signatures on a petition to allow them to just graduate. It was noted that some of the parents stated that their children have lost jobs over this. Hmmm. The parents were the ones who noted that one, eh?

A blog post on Dictionary.com increased the level of my ire. It was questioning if we are increasing the size of the gender gap rather than encouraging the equality of all with new words we keep introducing the language. Mansplain, manbun, manspread, and man purse were among the examples. The author posited the use of the “man” descriptor as superfluous, inaccurate, or insulting and is just an unnecessary label. Let me correct myself. That article didn’t raise my ire. It only made me more livid than I would have been when I saw then the headline in the local paper, “Young LGBT artists add to local art scene.” Please, is that adding more so than young nonLnonGnonBnonT artists do or maybe more than old LGBT artists, or perhaps more than any other old plain unidentified artist? Can’t we revel in the addition to its scene by any artist? More unnecessary labels!

I turned on the morning news and heard about the suburban housewife who had her car stolen with all of her son’s baseball equipment in it along with the usual assortment of car dwelling stuff. The local police department would investigate it but can’t because they are spread too thin investigating the rash of overdose deaths in the community. I have an idea. The overdoses are already dead. Tell everyone else not to take drugs and go help the mom who just had the family SUV heisted. Probably so the future overdose could buy drugs! Oh but wait. They have a special drug task force working on the drug problem. And I remember when they used to be just plain cops.

Later that day I’m reading what came in on the Facebook feed and saw a post from one of the patient based support groups that I belong to. It was a graphic representation of all the ways people die. All manners that people depart were listed from heart disease to suicide to blood disorders to combat and terrorism. The point being to put what condition we share into some perspective. Among the many causes of death was “otherwise not specified.” I went to the original post to the original article to the original comments. For once I wished I hadn’t had that kind of time. Not one, not two, but a whole boatload of people made comments like “what about overdoses – are those supposed to be the otherwise?” “Climate change appears to be missing.” “Where’s old age?” “Broken hearts?” Yes, broken hearts Apparently quite a few hundreds of people didn’t feel there were enough labels.

Add these to two other stories from last week’s news, the gunman in Florida who kills five people then shoots himself, and a local mother who shoots her two children then sets herself on fire. They called these murder suicides. Probably an accurate label but please, if you should ever get the urge to do such a thing be creative about it and do the suicide part first.

There now. Next time I’ll try to be happier. And I’ll proofread that one too. Now that I have this out of my system I really don’t want to go back and check for typos. If you want I’ll be happy to refund your money for this one.

Have a day

Some Gave All

Happy Memorial Day!  If you really think about it, that is just so wrong.  For over 140 years, Memorial Day marked the day when Americans honored first those who died in the Civil War, then those who died in any war, then those who died.  The common theme is death.

Death, while just about always somber does is not always unhappy.  Many families due to distance or other circumstances only re-unite on the occasion of a death among them.  Quite often what began as sorrowful turns into a true celebration of life.  But “Happy Memorial Day?”  It still seems wrong.  Since the Americans started fighting as Americans in 1775, over 1.5 million Americans ceased being so other Americans would benefit from their sacrifice.

Sometime today the television news people will broadcast film of a cemetery lined with miniature American flags decorating simple crosses or markers.   Sometime today thousands of marchers will step off on a parade that will end at a memorial site where a bugler will play taps.  Sometime today you will open your Internet news or your local newspaper and see a picture of a color guard highlighting a member from each of the armed services.  Sometime today almost everybody will shed or stifle a tear because each of us knows somebody who played a part in us still being at liberty to watch TV, wave at the parade, or just explore our world. 

And sometime today we’ll forget why we celebrate today and just celebrate.  We’ll have cook-outs, play soft ball, reunite with family and friends, and have a good time.  And somewhere, 1.5 million souls will look down and smile, knowing what began as sorrowful turned into a true celebration of life. 

Happy Memorial Day!     

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?