I wrote a small piece on planned death

He lived two months pretty happy. He liked the effects of the drugs.

My father was a pretty hardcore drinker, but very functional throughout his life. He was also very conservative, and would never take an drug that wasen't legal. Growing up, every once in awhile, he would tell me, "I think I would like the effect of heroin, but I would never take it." My father could never seem to relax, kinda like myself, and my brother.

Even as a kid, I knew my father needed to switch up his drugs, but I knew there wasen't much of a choice. As the years went by, I asked him to see a psychiatrist. Of course he said no. "But dad, you have this great union insurance--just see if the Dr. has anything for you." He never went, and I don't know if any doctor would give him anything--other than a detox program. What the doctor didn't know is my father stopped drinking for two months in his thirties. He felt better, but it was obvious he was nervous. He went right back to drinking.

The problem is, I really think, my father needed a drug like clonezepam before he went into detox. Anyway, he never went. My experience with Psychiatry is they gave me anti-anxiety medication, but it just was never enough. Years later, my doctor gave me a off-label drug that did the trick. I just wish the Dr. would have tried the harder drug years earlier.

Back to my father last two months. He was pretty functional, and liked the effects of the medication. In those two months, I thought my father would turn into a more compassionate person. He didn't. He spent his free time deciding who was going to get his money. My sister, and brother both tried to manipulate him, but my father seemed to like the attention? I stayed out of the drama--just because.

Well after two months, the drugs weren't enough. He needed more, but the hospice Dr. was way to prudent on the amounts. My father only saw the Dr. once, and every other communication was by phone. The hospice nurse arrived, I believe, a week before he died. We asked her for more drugs. She said, he just needs us around him. He was misserable that week. My greedy sister kept lessening his medication so he would wake up. He would wake up misserable. The nurse thought it was o.k.--like it was an act of love. I never told the nurse, but my sister wants him up to sign a trust. I got the feeling even if I told the nurse how manipulative my sister is, I don't think the nurse would have done anything. My sister has a way of gaining people's confidence quick. Never understood how people couldn't see through her?

My father was under medicated that final week. There was not enough meds on hand. My sister had the nurse under her spell. Plus, the nurse was projecting her own father's death over my father's. The nurse was always crying, and talking how difficult it was when her father died. I'm not questioning the nurse's emotions, and at first found them--honestly--I'm glad she cared enough to show emotion, but her crying made verything more stressful. My father didn't even know who this crying nurse was in the end. My biggest gripe is she let my sister cut back on his pain/anxiety medications.

The last three days of my father's life were hell. He would wake up frightened. He was always in intence pain. He was skin and bones. My sister once lifted the sheets and said, "In a way it's interesting? I said, "What?" She said, "Oh, the way the body breaks down." Yea--I was floored. While I knew she loved her father, I didn't say anything. Plus, I knew a death like my father's would be terrible.

My father's last words to me were, "Son--when will this end?". I didn't know what to say. I wanted to say, you need more medication, but didn't. He wasen't conscious enough for me to answer his last question.

He died two days later. All the family, and nurse were there. The nurse was saying all these new age beliefs, like he knows his loved ones are here. He wants you to talk to him. My sister had her indifferent kids saying kids things into his ears. He was never fond of kids--even his grandkids, so their voices didn't sooth him. I don't even know if he knew who was trying to talk to him? He kinda rswatted them away from the bed.

The last two days where horrid. He wasen't conscious, but he felt pain. So much pain. Pain! He was back to full doses of medication, but it wasn't enough. I called the doctor, and said he needs more. The Doctor said any more, and he might die. I didn't argue. I was an emotional mess. I was just thinking what's wrong with dying at this point?

I left an hour before my father passed. The rest of the family was there. I just didn't want to see him die like this. I knew he wasen't responding to us, but still had that horrid pain. There's a part of me that feels guilty for not being there. I figured what's the point of watching my father in so much pain. I found the professionals really had no answers in my father's death.

I got home and had a few glasses of wine, and got a call an hour later. "He died." I told my sister I'm sorry. She called back a month later, and wondered why her mother, nor myself weren't calling her. I made up some excuse.

When my father died, It was so painful--I'm still not quite over it. It has been 11 years and 5 months. Even though we didn't get along; the way he died greatly affected my life. In a weird way, part of me died that day.

(I hate to say this, but when my time comes, I don't want to go the way my father did. If I'm well enough, and have the money I will go and buy drugs off the streets. I've never even bought drugs before, but I think if I have the energy I will try it? Maybe? If I'm still in CA, and we have a Right to Die bill that just passed. Sorry, I went on. The man who's writing these brave posts is hitting me hard. I'm glad he's bringing death out in the open though.)

http://www.zocalopublicsquare.org/2011/11/30/how-doctors-die...

It moved me greatly, and also resonated because shortly after a friend of mine at the time, a cyclist with a wonderful personality and charisma, was diagnosed with a stomach cancer and within two weeks, on New Year's Eve, he died.

I remember him in hospital, he knew what was coming, had taken his last ride, had refused chemo, and was now in bed dying. I remember vividly how he comforted another friend who was crying, he was in bed, in pain, and told the other friend it would be alright. How the pain wasn't so bad now, and how he would be riding soon (when he knew full well he wouldn't and the pain was causing him to wince).

It occurred to me how much he, in those last days, did more to calm and comfort the people around him, how he took so little from them.

And it occurred to me how much joy he had in those last few rides, the sun on his skin as he glided around country lanes just South of London.

It reinforced what I'd read about how Doctors die. Reinforced my personal view that life is more than a number of days. Just as work is more than a salary alone.

My wife knows of this opinion and choice, she's very strongly communicated the same opinion, and even the manner and form of her funeral.

We choose to go when the time has come, and to live life fully until that moment. Some things we would live with, but other things, with a terminal prognosis, we would embrace as the striking of the final hour. Instead of spending that hour attempting to lengthen it, we choose to live and savour every moment of it.

I don't. I'm one of those that survived AIDS (had cancer (KS), CMV, etc - in other words - the whole bad of horrors).

I got lucky, good timing, I held out long enough. But many didn't. And I saw what hanging on does to people. It's stunning to see a guy who 6 months ago weighed 210lbs of muscle and now he was [trying] standing before me; 110lbs who couldn't spend more then 10 mins out of the toilet.

I think, ending your own life on your own terms is possibly the bravest thing you can do. It's not easy to take your own life.

For years, I had a special stash of drugs in a place I could get to even if I lost my eye sight (I almost did). And I set a limit - if my eyes went I would go. I never understood why our society expects people to fight the good fight. You should be able to make that decision yourself.

Right now, you have to beg for help, or go into hospice and wait it out. Usually very high on morphine and barely able to get out of bed. Awful.

You are right, end of life care is terrible in the US. Just terrible. We need to start teaching people that death is nothing to fear. And sometimes, it's a better choice.

This is a beautiful choice of words that sent a chill down my spine just now.

Thanks for taking the time to pick out these particular words.

   conflation between communism and USSR
   dictatorship. 

If you want to be more precise in your terminology, I suggest the following distinctions:

Marxism is a theory. Typically 3 things are theorised. (1) How capitalism (re)produced inequality. (2) A theory of revolution as intrinsic part of the transition from contemporary society to communism via socialism. (3) A theory of post-revolutionary society.

Socialism. This describes post-revolutionary, but pre-communist societies, in particular USSR and its satellites.

Communism. The ideal society, post-revolution, where the "contradictions of capitalism" have disappeared.

But just to illustrate, recently a court in Germany supposedly denied someone the right to marry their pet. Why? Ah and there was a promient case of cannibalism between consenting adults a few years ago.

Got moral, ethical concerns about it? Or just caught some phobia? Either way, the society-transforming force of Individualism will ensure that the individual will get their way and get to do whatever they want.

The Internet (find likeminded people, get crazy ideas, be happy alone) and the declining birth rates (more focus on individual uniqueness and development) have only accelerated this trend.

The differences you mention (duration of ideation/plan, competence) are ultimately about determining if the person "really wants to". But this applies equally to "normal" suicide: it places the many rationally planned suicides into the same class as euthanasia (it's their life, they're freeing themselves, keep your morality to yourself).

http://www.emorycaresforyou.emory.edu/resources/suicidestati...

Furthermore, according to the above link, of the 1 million who create a plan, only half report going through with it - how many with a "planned death" would not actually have gone through with it and instead endured, had they been lucid?

Should we be trying to prevent "(rationally) planned death", or shouldn't we?

Just out of curiosity, why not?

> A DNR is not an order to cease basic life-support post-resuscitation.

And no one said it was; no one even hinted at it.

> For which of these does he deserve to suffer for, more than he has already?

The first, the violation of her express written wishes that led to her "painless death".

Sadly, he's dead, which means his suffering has ended. The rest of us get to continue remembering until we too pass.

No disrespect to the parent poster (or author) but... acknowledging that something that is obviously sad is actually sad is not a very useful observation.