I first dealth with the death of someone close to me at age seventeen when my grandfather died of cancer. He and my grandmother lived in one side of a two family home next door to my mother, sister and I. As a child I spent a great deal of time with my grandparents, who I called Nana and Poppop, and we continued to have close relationships throughout my teen years. When my Poppop was diagnosed with cancer he opted to not begin standard chemotherapy and radiation treatments, but to stay at home on hospice care. It was very difficult for me to witness his physical deterioration. He had always seemed larger than life to me and I was always convinced he knew everything, from vocabulary words to how to build an engine. He was a man of great pride and seeing him begin to falter was crushing. I tried to spend time with him when I could, but at 17 I had my own life and things to do. I have since wished that I had given him more of time, but he knew that I loved him and that is what is important. He died in September of 1997.
After my Poppop died I moved into an upstairs bedroom of my Nana's house so she would not have to be alone. In August of 1998 she had a heart attack, her second, and was diagnosed with cancer. She also decided that she did not want treatments, and she lived in her home with help from our family and the local hospice. After I learned she was dying, I knew I had to be near her because I did not want to regret the things I hadn't done like I did after my Poppop died. I spent as much time with her as I could almost everyday, I took her to doctors appointments and I did erands for her. But the one thing I did that was the most important to her was listen. She told me stories about her childhood and about how she and my Poppop met. She told me to write it down, because I was the one who needed to write her history, but I didn't need to write it, I remembered every word. She told me that I was her best friend and the only person she could talk to about dying. She often told me that she did not want to live anymore, because life without her husband of sixty-four years was not worth living. She said "I don't want to exsist, I want to live, and this life, this place where I am right now is not living." Everyone else was uncomfortable hearing her say these things, but I let her speak. She died in March of 1999, and I can honestly say there is nothing I would do differently. I gave much of myself to her because she needed me, and that is what family is about.
This project is a tribute to my Nana and Poppop. When they were dying they chose not to receive treatments and not to be in pain. Nana and Poppop were both extremely strong willed people, and even when the doctors pushed a little too hard for treatment, they refused because it was not what they wanted. Everyone should realize that they have this choice, that they can be cared for at home by people who respect and love them. Dying does not need to be an embarassing or undignified thing. We need to take control of our lives and our medicine and begin to embrace every cycle of life, even the end. I hope that this web page has educated you on the issues and available options in end-of-life care today.
