Do not resuscitate

It may seem macabre to focus on death but it has been the subject of several recent conversations with friends. How to die? When to die? Where to die? Last week a relative was making a visit to Trinidad, his first in four decades, so he could tick it off his bucket list. He has four years to live before his neurological disorder shuts him down forever. He and his wife seem satisfied to know their immediate future, in so far as it can be guaranteed. Some might think him fortunate. For many women of my generation, who have no children, or any upon whom they would wish to depend, or whose children live abroad, or from whom they may be estranged, or whose husbands have moved on to younger or other partners, or who have already shuffled off the mortal coil leaving them widows, those troublesome questions, that really are all about uncertainty, loom large.

It is somewhat surprising that these issues are so present when the prospect of a long and healthy life is now greater than it has ever been. But it is that very fact that is so bothersome to them. Retiring in one’s 50s, as so many more people do now, or even in one’s 60s leaves the possibility of another 20 or 30 or even 40 years of life. A whole other life. What to do with it? How to finance it, how to plan for it? This is unchartered territory. People are daunted by it. Not all of us will enjoy a good pension and many face penury. As we all now know, planning for retirement is as important as planning a family or plotting our careers, but even those who do plan, once retired, unless they have been very high-earners and lucky investors, will still number among those with the lowest incomes in the country.

People of faith are blessed to believe that God will provide, but others, very many others, are taking unconventional steps to ensure that in the event of ill-health they do not eke out a meagre existence, one where they become “liabilities”, need constant care or “end up” alone, immobile, with a poor quality of life. A surprising number of people I know have signed “Living Wills”. This is a written request or instruction to medical carers that in the event of one’s vital organs failing that no attempt is made to resuscitate the person. The moral aspects of this decision do not concern me. What do are the practicalities of it and also how a human being can overcome the irresistible will to survive.

Recently a friend who was diagnosed with a life threatening heart complaint and who has a Living Will brought this into acute focus. Having discovered this terrible news she immediately brought all her sharp intelligence and range of medical contacts into play. She travelled to another country to verify the diagnosis and within one week was on the operating table there for a lengthy procedure that preceded the fitting of a pacemaker a week later. Commenting on this paradoxical chain of events, another Living Will signatory revealed that no overpowering, unwelcome desire to survive would override her determination to go precisely when Nature decided. She is taking no chances that the piece of paper in her bag is overlooked. She has had the words “do not resuscitate” tattooed onto her ribcage, just under her left breast. Extreme it may be but impressively decisive all the same.

Creating a new life, often alone, in the twilight years requires us to have fertile imaginations and also opportunities. Good health is the rock upon which all success of that nature relies. Everything else follows. Reminding myself that my body is my temple, as a priest explained to me when I was still a teenager, does not happen every day.

My son has been admonishing me for not being sufficiently physically active. Coming from a long line of long livers I must say I am beginning to get worried about doing my sedentary body too many injustices. It could be that he is concerned that I am going to be a helpless nonagenarian but my son’s explanation of why pumping up one’s heart rate to bring oxygen to the tiny capillaries of the brain and improving our circulation generally is a good thing could not be argued against.

Maybe doing as he suggests is sensible. I see that brain diseases are increasing exponentially and outstripping medical science. Cold pressed coconut oil is the answer, apparently. I hope it increases the blood to my brain while I sit still.