Homework #21: Expert Number One

• Beth wanted her husband to be treated as a person, not simply as a patient. Thus his room was strewn with pictures of his family and his own artwork, to show the life behind the dying man.
• Everyone was a human being in Beth’s mind; she asked about their personal lives, made sure they knew that they were just as significant to the healing of her husband, no matter the size of the task the person performed.
• Instead of receiving the assistance of hospice care, she took care of her husband herself. Why should people who barely know him manage some of the most intimate moments of his life?
• Her husband experience hallucinations and raised his arms, almost as if he were protecting himself from death itself.
• At the time of his passing there was an indescribable stillness.
• The only way death is bearable is when relationships are present in one’s life.
• Some wisdom comes from the process: one gains the sense of reality that we are not immortal.

                “Everyone was a human being in her mind; she asked about their personal lives, made sure they knew that they were just as significant to the healing of her husband, no matter the size of the task the person performed.” When hearing this, I remember thinking back to one day up in the Finger Lakes with my parents, we had gone out to dinner. We walked into the completely empty restaurant and my father chose a table for us. The waitress kindly came up to us and expressed that this was not the appropriate place to sit – this room was only used between certain hours. She noted that she would be happy to bring us outdoors where we could eat on the terrace. My father, aggravated, yelled at the waitress, describing the inconvenience of the situation. I stood there embarrassed, urging my father to stop. In no way was one of us ill, or dying, but there I stood with a father, treating another human being as if she had no worth. I thought of myself in the hospital, him becoming impatient with the nurse, and I therefore would not receive the same respect in the hospital. It was a scene I wished to never see played out in real life. I realized myself that these people do not need to help us, under no obligation do they have to take our blood, x-ray our bodies, or prop up our pillows, but they do. They help us so much but in return we dehumanize them. Why do we see them as so insignificant? Is it the way they walk, or dress? Or simply that they probably did not go through as much training to attain that position as the head doctor? Weird that we act superior to them, when they probably have the most important tasks of all. They save lives – a doctor may analyze our situation, but these people provide the evidence to help maintain our very existence.

                         Maintaining relationships not only with the x-ray technician, but also loved ones was a prominent aspect of Beth and Erik’s struggle. Beth states, “The only way death is bearable is when relationships are present in one’s life.” Loved ones are there to keep you strong, to keep you going. Sometimes a little motivation is all we need to overcome something – to succeed. But I wonder what it is like to die without anyone. At the dinner table a couple weeks ago my mother told a story about when she was a social worker and had to hold a funeral for a man who no longer had anyone else to do it for him. The state paid for it and it was an open event for people to go to: few did. It was poorly funded and truly sad to watch. But we do not know, maybe it was easier for the man to accept death. With nothing to hold onto, what is there to keep you from embracing peace? In the process of his death, he had no one there to hold his hand or stroke his hair and tell him everything was going to be okay. So many would see this as treacherous, unfathomably terrible that a person would have to go through something so intense, alone. But this process shed all the lies; nothing was hidden from sight – his life was in his own hands. He was able to let go without fretting for the welfare of his children, or if his wife could manage keeping the house. With no loose ends to tie, he could fall into a deep sleep. I am not saying that I would personally want to go this way; I doubt most people would, but perhaps that Beth’s statement is not entirely true. Relationships while thrilling and at the same time comforting, can begin to hide the truth, make a person hate death for taking them away from the things they love. Without relationships, maybe you would treat death as an old friend, ready to finally take you away. We seem to only fear death because of fear of what we’ll miss.

            Beth’s entire story was really captivating – honestly I almost started crying. If I can cry just because of someone else’s story, someone who told it so strongly, I cannot imagine how I would be going through it myself. It was interesting to see the way Beth decided to portray the process of her husband’s death. At the beginning she sucked her bottom lip, her eyes a little glossy it seemed. But as Andy finished his preface, and she began, it seemed that the woman who had be sitting there before was gone. Beth told the story so confidently, even going so far as to scold her husband for being foolish, while I believe most people would not dare think of the dead in such a fashion. I simply wonder, how? How was it so easy to talk about such a hard topic? I understand that we were the last class, and that years have passed, but the images that came forward must have been heart breaking. Death is a scary thing for most people, but it seemed to have lost its advantage over Beth. She even said herself, “One gains the sense of reality that we are not immortal.” Shrugging her shoulders she threw out there the commonest of statements, “We’re all going to die”, but unlike most, knew what she was talking about. People let those words slide from their mouth, not really understanding what is they are saying, shrugging their shoulders as to say, “so what?” But Beth did not do that, instead she showed acceptance. When though will we all be able to accept this? Or will that time never come? When does death stop being the enemy, the one who stole the person you loved most, and become the most natural idea?