Alive and Kicking

I recently read a quotation that said, “Just because you’re not dead doesn’t mean you’re alive.” It struck me as profound when a man was interviewed on local TV, pleading for a doctor to give him drugs to put himself to sleep permanently. He said that he should have been dead a year ago, but the doctors keep giving him medications and treatments that extend his life. He doesn’t understand why they will fight so hard to keep his body functions working, but refuse to even discuss with him their providing him with end-of-life treatments. As he pleaded with the TV interviewer, “I no longer want to be alive because I’m not living, I’m just existing, and that’s not life.”

As I face another birthday and realize that I am well into the age category of senior citizen, I wonder how much longer I will be able to be as active and engaged as I am now. I remember when my mother celebrated her 75th birthday and then began to decline somewhat rapidly. She had memory loss that became Alzheimer’s, and as her mind shut down, so did her body. There was a full year of being basically bedridden before she died, and no one should “have to” suffer that indignity, whether they are the patient or the care-giver.

There should be a point in life, regardless of age, the point when infirmities take over the living process, that a person can say I’ve had enough, and die with dignity. Doctors prescribe medications for every other aspect of a human’s life, but they back off when it comes to end of life decisions. They all point to the Hippocratic Oath that challenges them to prolong life regardless of the quality of that life. When it’s a vegetative, non-responsive, non-vital existence with the patient confined to a bed, it’s time to be merciful and provide them with the dignity of dying quietly in their sleep.

I am very fortunate at this stage of my life to be healthy physically and mentally. I am still able to care for myself and function fully in just about any situation I encounter. I participate in life, both on a daily basis and in looking toward the future for things I still want to do, go see, or be part of. I’m not ready to take a prescribed pill, but I certainly would if I were unable to care for myself and become a burden to others. As the quote says, there is a difference between being alive and living, and I am still focused on living my life. When the time comes for me to go, I’ll do so knowing that I gave it my all and have no regrets.

I'll take the pill.