I have written before how profoundly my father's death affected me. To the core. I knew that health care had run a muck- but to what extent?
A person HAS to die. One can do it or prolong it.
The elderly/very ill are especially vulnerable since others make decisions for them. They continue on- taking vast medication, being on machines or having surgeries - for their loved ones.
One of the last things that happens on the road to death is the refusal of food. The body is shutting down. It is a part of the process. Slowly life ebbs away. Unfortunately for my father, the Pope had a feeding tube inserted to continue his life. In turn the decision was made to do this for my father as well.
My father despised noise that was not beautiful. Here was the very thing that was making his end a living hell- a pump he did not want and a noise that would drown everything beautiful.
That brings me to what I desire. The older I get, the more interested I am in death without machines. Any machines. Death brings us to a higher place. Why would I want it extended with objects that were not present twenty years ago?
Open the window. Put the Hawaiian blanket on the bed. Put some of my favorite paintings on the wall. Leave if you must. But please, let me go in peace in a sealed hospital room.
OK- I have still have to make the Hawaiian blanket so I cannot go anytime before my sewing room is ready!