As I Lay Dying

It’s been five and a half months since my father took his last breath.  He was under the care of hospice and lay dying in the very room that he had requested to be in for his final step in the dying process.  He slipped in and out of consciousness, in and out of any sort of recognizable communication pattern, in and out of reality.  As I reflect on his death at the premature age of 69; succumbing to colon cancer, I cannot help but wonder what that last week was like for him.  Additionally, I wonder what my last week, should I be so lucky as to be granted a last week, will be like.

In his book Dying Well, Dr. Ira Byock makes a convincing argument that indeed dying instantly, without prior knowledge or preparation time, is NOT the blessing that many of us see it as but rather the dying process, slowly and with purpose, is in fact the preferred method of passing on; it is the manner in which to Die Well.  Dr. Byock is fundamentally responsible for developing our hospice system in this country.  His compassion for people that are in their last, and his knowledge of and ability to provide comfort for both the patient and their families and loved ones is perhaps unparalleled.  Having read this book as a means of comfort after my father passed I have come to a few conclusions.

1.  The dying process for each of us is virtually the same.  Each step is virtually identical.  The steps that we endure, the process that takes place, is in a strange way comforting.  That we are all different I have no doubt, but it was through my fathers dying and the dying process that I can also identify the manner in which we are all connected.

2.  The “pain” factor of passing is wholly manageable.  The fear of death, which I believe is universally part and parcel to the fear of the pain associated with passing, should be a non-factor. 

There is another factor in the end of life process that while initially shocking, indeed otherworldly, has become a final and perhaps conclusive bit of comfort.  In his last days my father would communicate with people that I couldn’t see, refer to things I couldn’t comprehend.  Science has offered biological, chemical, physical answers to explain away these occurrences, and pharmaceuticals have been given the credit for such things as well.  However, after having seen them with my own eyes, I can say without reservation that my father’s experiences were quite real.  Not a biological response and not a chemical response but a part of the dying process.  Some parts of the transition from this world to the next cannot be explained away by formulas, x-rays or monitors.  While all these things certainly serve a purpose and they are indeed in their own rights amazing, life and death are both miracles.  The completion of a cycle is just that; complete.  We have 9 months to begin our lives, to form and become whole.  To think that death does not involve preparation that is equally complicated and intricate is foolhardy.

My last days, whenever they may occur, will be less scary, perhaps even comforting.  Death is a part of life.  While cliché, truer words there may not be.  It is universal, it misses no one and it is just.  Sometimes our narcissism acts as a defense mechanism for things we truly don’t understand and fear. It appears to me the Dying Well is indeed a process to revere and to embrace.