Ok…warning. This is not a fun subject but sometimes we have to touch on the tough stuff. If you aren’t up for it, come back tomorrow. It’s ok. We’ll do something lighter tomorrow.

We talk a lot here about death and dying. We speak from the perspective of the survivor…the one who was so cruelly and sometimes suddenly left behind. Some of us watched our loved ones go through countless, hideous tortures with the hope of a cure, a miracle, another chance. Some of us had them yanked away instantly.

But what has modern medicine done to the process of dying if death is truly imminent? What have all the tubes and lines and electrodes and elixirs accomplished…truly. What kind of death has it given us?

There’s a fine line we walk along with the care providers. People deserve every chance they can get to have a long, healthy, happy life. But…at what point do we determine it’s ok to allow a loved one to go without jumping through every possible hoop? It’s a personal choice to be sure. One to be discussed ahead of time, no matter how uncomfortable it is. But I think people tend to go along with whatever the doctor recommends, even when there isn’t much hope. We feel guilty if we don’t do absolutely everything.

As the emergency room staff were working on Mr. Virgo, there was a point when they stopped the chest compressions and I saw…I actually, visually, witnessed…his spirit as it left his body. I was stunned. I looked around to ask the staff about it because surely they must have seen it as well. It was very apparent they did not. No one else was given that privilege. They continued CPR and it became more and more gruesome. Some time later I was thinking “Stop. Just stop!” As soon as I had the thought, I felt Mr. Virgo push me from behind and I immediately blurted out, “He doesn’t want you to do this!” Not “We talked about end of life decisions yada, yada, yada…” No, this was a directive…straight from his spirit. The doctor turned to me with a shocked look and said, “But, he’s only 62! We HAVE TO! We can take away later, but we can’t add.” So, what was I to do? Miracles happen. Maybe God would see fit to reach His finger down and heal my beloved husband’s heart. So I didn’t push it. I didn’t say anything else. I let the situation play out. Brutal.

We nearly turned south that day and headed for the mountains instead of town. I’ve often wondered if his death would have been much more peaceful for him if I would have gathered him in my arms, held him to my chest, and talked to him about the birds dancing in the branches above. What if his last memories were the sounds of the wind and the melting snow rippling over the nearby stones instead of people barking orders and beeps and bells and metal crashing together? But, in all likelihood, it would have been a terrifying scenario and I would have been left feeling personally responsible for being unable to save him.

That peaceful scene was a much more realistic soundtrack of death in the distant past. In a time when it was a goal to die with dignity in the presence of those who loved you best. Lying by a window, perhaps. Peaceful. Maybe some soup on the stove in case you wanted a sip.

I don’t know what the answer is. I don’t know how one could possibly arbitrarily say, “Well, this one is too old to save.” But I did read this thought provoking article yesterday and I thought I would share it here as it is pretty much the opposite of what we are usually talking about. Then again…maybe not so much.

❤️

““I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.””