An obituary I would like to see

No, it is not an obituary for a specific individual.  It is an obituary that recognizes and celebrates taking control of one’s end-of-life suffering. 

You have probably read, as I have, countless loving tributes to deceased family members that start with that all too familiar line “after a long and courageous battle against . . .”   Simple words that usually mask months, possibly years, of suffering for the patient and for the family.   Countless indignities,  unwelcome medical interventions, anguish for the patient, and trauma for the family members that must witness the slow but inevitable dismantling of the person they loved without being able to relieve the suffering.

So the obituary I would like to read would overturn the standard phrases and proudly announce the deceased’s decision to remain in control.  It would read something like this:

When Fred found out he had Disease X, he sought out every reasonable medical intervention to restore his health and maintain a good quality of life.  When it became clear that this was not possible, Fred thanked his medical team and moved on.  He sought out palliative care that would enable him to have a brief window of relatively pain-free time.  He took some of the money that would have gone into co-pays for nursing homes, emergency tracheotomies, toxic drugs and experimental treatments – and instead treated  his family to  a blowout Walt Disney World cruise.  Then he returned home, and with his loved ones around him, serenely ended his life.   In  those final moments he was comforted in knowing that  his spouse and his family would have only wonderful memories of him fully engaged in life and being his true self, not some emaciated figure lying in a bed, whimpering in pain and with tubes and monitoring equipment around him.

No, Fred did not “win the war” against death.  None of us will.  But he won the war against needless suffering.  And, by the way, while financial reasons should never be the cause for an individual ending their life, perhaps he realized that the monetary resources he was leaving behind would be another gift to his family.   I would guess that in those final moments “Fred” thought about the money for his grandkids’ tuition still available in his bank account, and he was proud of the choices he had made for himself and his family.

Yes, I would like to see that obituary – and I would like to witness the final exit of obituaries that treat unnecessary suffering as courage and the acceptance of pain as a form of victory. 

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Editor – As it happens, an obituary in the spirit of what Janis wrote appeared in several locations recently, here and here and here, written by Jim Hightower, Susan DeMarco’s long-time collaborator:

DeMARCO, Susan – On the first of April, Susan DeMarco slipped away from all of us who loved her–loving her feistiness, inherent smarts, political savviness, personal warmth, playfulness, and all-around beauty. An author of 3 well-regarded books, an investigative journalist, government policy-maker, teacher, mentor, and lifelong champion of economic fairness, social justice, and equal opportunity for all she drew her last breath 18 hours after Seton’s hospital staff honored her previously-written directive that all life support tubes, etc be removed. Crushingly sad, of course, yet deeply rewarding, for it meant she not only overcame the blood clot that had slammed into her brain, but also our society’s high-tech medical imperative that she be held captive in her own severely damaged body. And how very “DeMarco” (as all of her friends called her) that she managed to “fly away” on the 1st, which was both Easter Sunday and April Fools’ day! 

One longtime Texas friend summed up the New Jersey native with the highest of Texan accolades: “She was mighty fine.” No need for flowers or donations in her name. Rather, she would hope that the comfort of her pain-free passing at Seton might alert others to consider the possibility of controlling their own end time. She was able to die on her own terms only because she had previously signed three essential legal documents stating her wishes and empowering a trusted loved one to allow medical officials to switch from life sustaining to palliative care, letting her die as she wished. The documents are (1) Durable Power of Attorney, (2) Declaration of Guardian, and (3) Advanced Directive to Physicians.

As legalistic as all of that sounds, it’s not complicated to get and fill out standard forms for all three. Indeed, your own doctor is mandated by a recent Medicare provision to inform, discuss, and assist you with “Advance Care Planning,” free of charge. Above all, DeMarco was a free spirit, full of life, curiosity, and imagination. For example, she delighted in the diversity of birds that populated her big South Austin yard from shy cardinal couples to raucous grackles and she often had magical dreams of actually flying with them. Although she did take charge of her final exit, she even imagined it as a joyous, avian-like experience as expressed in an old, uplifting gospel song she liked: “I’ll Fly Away.” And that’s just what she did.

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Janis Landis is President of the Final Exit Network Board, on which she has served since 2011.  She is retired after a career as an Executive in the U.S. Department of Treasury.