Free Advice: On Death

 Death, the final frontier.

There you have it. There's not a whole-helluva-lot you can do about it though. As adults, we are acutely aware that death is a very real part of life - the finality of it all is incomparable to anything we will ever experience. There is no going back. No "do-overs". It is what it is.
 
I am no expert on death and dying but I do have a fair amount of 'hands-on' experience in this area that has come, in part, from being a Critical Care/ER Nurse but sadly, I've held more than one hand of a friend and family member at the moment of their last breath on earth. I've learned that death can be orchestrated into an intimate, beautiful and loving journey in life.

Yes, I've been a feverish participant during traumatic, no-holds-barred, heroic attempts of resuscitation. People who were too young to die and had so much to live for. Children, are most difficult. Enough about that for now. Today's post is not about them.

Today's post is about the countless whose lives came to an end despite the technology, medications, surgeries, complications and care we in health-care have provided to them. Today's post is about those who have lived a long healthy life and/or a short one of pain and suffering. Although, not at all scientific, this is what I've learned...

• The people who are closest to you right now will most likely be with you at the time of your death.Let them know how feel about end of life issues. Mr. Something wants to be told "Hey! Everything is looking good!" and as difficult as it may be for me, I will honor his request.
• If you find yourself to be assisting someone on their journey of illness, chances are they chose you to be there. 
• If you find yourself at the bedside of someone as they take their last breath, chances are they chose you to be there.
• If you are not around someone when they die, chances are they needed you not to be there.

• There are far worse things in life than death - but, that's a whole other list.

• Strangely, people may choose to die alone or when that certain someone who is having the most difficulty with their loss leaves the room. How many family members have said to me (upon hearing the news of their loved ones death) "But I just left to get a cup of coffee!".

• If you can, think about telling your loved one that you will miss them. Let them know that when it is time to go, you wish them peace and assure them that you will be strong and/or will help others through it.
• Thank your loved one for their impact on your life. I thanked my dad for helping to put me through nursing school. A sacred profession. I know how proud he was. Did he hear me? Who knows? It doesn't matter. The process of dying is a process for the living as well.

• Sometimes, people will wait to die until someone they have not seen in a long time arrives at their bedside.
• Grief is natural. Give yourself time to cry. Avoid drugs. They could delay the inevitable and you might just find your delayed grief rearing itself at a most inopportune time.Two months after my brother died. I couldn't stop crying. Was it the Ativan that "held me together" during and immediately after his death?
• "Wakes" are a good thing. Everyone gathers at the home of the departed family member following the service. They eat, drink, swap stories, cry and laugh. Royally pissed-off at the thought of having a party after the tragic death of Susan, (my 25 year old sister-in-law), my wise Aunt Marie said ”Joanie, I have wakes to help people get beyond their grief and this party gives everyone permission to laugh again. Life goes on and know that Susan will forever remain in your heart but it’s time to get back with the living.”
• Sometimes "ritual" can help with the journey. A few days before the death of my dear friend, Rob, I arranged to have his hair cut (he was all about looking good). I requested that locks of his hair be saved for me. Tying them with ribbon, and placing them in small photo note cards for his family and closest friends, my memento of Rob remains treasured today..

Why 'Wake'?

My Aunt, Marie Anderson was among the most wise and beautiful women I have ever known.

Whenever a friend or relative would pass away, Aunt Marie was the first to organize ‘the wake’. Aunt Marie’s wakes were referred to in the possessive …“Laura’s Wake” or “Uncle Hubert’s Wake” etc.

At seventeen, after the tragic loss of my 25 year-old sister-in-law, Susan, everyone congregated at Aunt Marie and Uncle Andy’s place for “Susan’s Wake”. It was held immediately after the funeral and consisted of laughing, drinking, eating and reminiscing. It was a ‘party’.

I didn’t get it. How could anyone be happy at a time like this?

Susan was an oncology nurse and I aspired to be like her and now she was gone forever. I was devastated by her loss and along with a few other mourners was somewhat miffed about this ‘wake’ business as we felt that the laughter and frivolity was disrespectful. So, I isolated myself from the group and cried. I cried for her loss, her youth and her love. I cried for my brother.

After sitting alone for a while, drowning in my tears of sorrow, Aunt Marie joined me. What she said to me changed the way I thought about ‘wakes’ from then on …”Joanie, I have wakes to help people get beyond their grief and this party gives everyone permission to laugh again. Life goes on and know that Susan will forever remain in your heart but it’s time to get back with the living.” With that said, she led me to her kitchen table - the 'party spot' for my family - where I listened to the older relatives telling stories, jokes and laughing. Before I knew it, I was laughing too. That incredible weight of grief I felt in the pit of my stomach was lifting and I sensed Susan was watching us all with approval, joy and mostly, relief.

This week, I and my E.R. colleagues, Jim, Cathy,Bobbie and Carin had the honor of organizing “Lou’s Wake.” It was held after his Memorial service and all seventy attendees contributed to the cause. We laughed, ate, drank and reminisced about our friend who will always remain in our hearts.

We laughed while being reminded of Lou's 'Magic Eight Ball' and it's helpfulness when all else failed in decision making, the value of the "Tooth to Tattoo Ratio' in determining one's I.Q. and told stories of Lou's impact on us throughout the time he was in our lives. I'll bet that if he was looking down on us, he would have approved.

Dr. Louis Portera meant so much to so many.

St Thomas Aquinas Catholic Church has a capacity of 800 people - every pew was occupied. Baby blue coloured ribbons were worn by the Emergency Department mourners to commemorate the signature colour of Dr Portera's scrubs. Nice touch - he would have liked that.
As we continue in life remembering Lou and all that he meant to us, I'm thinking that he might have wanted to leave us with these final, parting words of advice..."Do The Right Thing".
Thanks Lou.