Life is scarier than death. JSFoer / Death is comfortable. betsisanders

 

 

I was crying all night and it rained heavily the entire night that caused flooding in the Metro the day after. I have always referred to the rain as tears just like how JSFoer once wrote, “In bed that night I invented a special drain that would be underneath every pillow in New York, and would connect to the reservoir. Whenever people cried themselves to sleep, the tears would all go to the same place, and in the morning the weatherman could report if the water level of the Reservoir of Tears had gone up or down, and you could know if New York is in heavy boots.” ― Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

As I write this blog, a colleague, a classmate, Hubby's group mate in dental school, who is the beneficiary of our fundraiser at Strumms, is fighting for dear life. When I got the news that he flatlined for twenty minutes during his hemodialysis session the other night and is in a coma, I couldn't stop the tears. I am not even close to him. I even deleted him from my list of FB friends two years ago. ( FB didn't have the 'acquaintance' grouping then).

Being Ms. Emo and a cry-baby, the tears poured just as strongly as the rains that night. I emailed classmates and friends, asking them to storm the heavens with their prayer offerings. But my prayer was different. Not for him to get well, but for him to be comfortable, and when I say comfortable, I meant for him to die as soon as possible. It must be very tiring and draining for him. I was being drained of my emotions as I prayed for him.

If living is that difficult, if living entails being attached to life support systems, machines, tubes, monitors... That is not living!
I told my Hubby that if I would ever need hemodialysis or something as simple as an angioplasty, I wouldn't want to go through those procedures. He said that I should make a notarized document, so he won't be blamed for anything.

That kind of life is scary. My dad who is turning 83 this November has been in hemodialysis for the past eight years. He has survived most of his 'classmates' at the renal care center. Dad is a strong man, a fighter ... but he recently signed a DNR document, which I co- signed last time I visited him in Roseville. I guess, he must be tired too.

Dad's hemodialysis session was also stopped several times when his blood pressure became quite low. So every time he goes to those sessions, it could be his last. When I had to 'daddy- sit' two years ago, I would listen to him every morning, as he gets ready to be picked up by his transport service. I would hear him drag his walker, close the front door, his driver say 'good morning', then the van would drive away. I would wait for him to get back at around two in the afternoon, again hear the same things. It is his routine thrice a week for the past eight years.

I got a phone call from him this morning. He asked where I kept his leather hats. He said he needed them since it is going to be cold soon. "Autumn is a bit late." he said. He sounded 'happy', content, has accepted that he cannot come home to Manila. I was glad to hear his voice. But there is this lingering fear that maybe it could be his last phone call.

I don't want my Dad to be comfortable yet. I guess I could live with this fear for a few more years. But if it was me who has to live that kind of life. I would rather be comfortable as soon as I can.

Life is scarier than death. JSFoer / Death is comfortable. betsisanders