Most of you are not there, just yet, but I am. Just so you know what's coming, the right to lifers are after your old body too.
Within six months time, my family had to hire an attorney to force two hospitals to respect Advanced Healthcare Directives - which stated my mother, then my husband's explicit written and notarized wishes "NO extraordinary measures".
My poor mother was 85 years old, when the hospital ignored her AHD and placed her on life support. As I said, my family had to hire an attorney to force the hospital to release her to her family and hospice care.
Six months later, my husband who had endured 12 solid months of cancer treatments followed by 2 years of health, learned that cancer had spread throughout his liver. Once again, the right to lifers fought his decision to come home to hospice care.
My husband called. It was nine o-clock at night. "Come and get me now" was all he said and hung up the phone. I knew that man and in a flash, I was out the door, in my car and driving down the mountain in a snowstorm. I reached the hospital and there he was. "We're going home" he said and we did.
We drove out of the storming rain in the valley up, up, up our snowy mountain. I couldn't see 10 feet in front of us, but I knew our mountain well. We made it down the drive and parked. Sitting before us was the home my husband built with his own two hands, high on a mountainside, where we lived in the clouds. My husband put his arm around me and we crossed the bridge, the balcony and into our home . . .
and started laughing.
There in the corner was our fire still burning five hours after I left. There were our faithful animals waiting for us to come home. There was all our joy, and our sorrow, all our good and bad times, all wrapped up in one great love affair, welcoming us back home.
The right to lifers fought back and I suppose they consider our story a win. 26 days later, the sun rose and my husband passed away. The rituals took me through the hours. I washed his body, tucked him in, and sat beside him.
The phone rang. It was a right to lifer nurse. Her tone was not kind. Hospice care had been approved said the snotty woman; all I needed do was call and they would come. Its too late, I said, he died at dawn - and she hung up in my face.
My husband had endured 26 days of liver cancer's discomfort, often painful, at times excruciating pain, for the right to die on his own terms, in his own home, with the woman he loved beside him.
Beware, someday when you can no longer speak for yourself, they will come for you.
