Draft script:
From Psychology Today on 21 March 2018 comes an article titled I Just Learned that I have a Terminal Illness. Now What? The subhead: Seven questions to answer as you confront death and embrace life.
The article opens with a three-paragraph introduction by the author’s daughter. The opening paragraph of this introduction perfectly describes my family: “Some of the biggest lies we tell ourselves center around death. We may avoid thinking about mortality by refusing to write a will. We may have no idea what end of life options our parents or loved ones want when confronted with death because no party involved wants to talk about it. And most of us think that being diagnosed with a terminal illness is simply something that ‘couldn't happen to me.’”
The following paragraph provides a synopsis of my work since I announced Earth was in the midst of abrupt, irreversible climate change with a blog post at guymcpherson.com on 20 June 2012: “The truth is that all of us will die. Everyone we love will die. And a large number of us will be diagnosed with a terminal illness before our ultimate demise.”
I have described the terminal diagnosis in the following manner: Birth is a sexually transmitted disease that has proven fatal in every case. In other words, we were all given a terminal diagnosis at birth. Informed, intelligent people understand this idea. Most people remain in denial of their own deaths. However, as the middle paragraph of the introduction to the article in Psychology Today indicates, “… all of us will die. Everyone we love will die.” Although this seems obvious to any thinking person, I am surprised daily by the number of people who believe otherwise.
After the three-paragraph introduction, the article opens with “I am dying. Unless I get hit by a truck, I know how I will probably die. And it won’t be pretty.” The author goes on to describe her diagnosis with Multiple Systems Atrophy, or MSA. MSA is a fatal, progressive brain disorder that affects neurological body functions such as swallowing, digestion, and blood pressure. The author goes on to list seven questions and the answers she gave to them.
The first question: “Whom should I tell about my illness?” Her conclusion was to tell those to whom she was emotionally closest, including her daughter, her siblings, and her dearest friends. From there, she moved on to the people who needed to know because of legal or financial reasons. These included her lawyer, her financial advisor, her accountant, and various healthcare providers. In my case, both lists are short. My family stopped interacting with me many years ago. I have a few dear friends. They will know when humans are on the verge of losing habitat because they follow my work. From the loss of habitat to individual death is a relatively short step. Also, I have no lawyer, no financial advisor, and no accountant. I’ve no need to tell my healthcare providers for two reasons: (1) I barely know my healthcare providers, and (2) to say we’re not close would be an understatement.
I used to believe my mission was to tell everybody in the world when Earth was losing habitat for human animals. That went well. I’m no longer driven by this mission, an opinion reinforced by the coordinated defamation campaign that removed my ability to share this information publicly and then destroyed my personal life. Indeed, I am reminded of a line from Marcus Aurelius: “Each of us lives only now, this brief instant. The rest has been lived already, or is impossible to see.” As I have indicated previously in this space, Aurelius was the Emperor of Rome during the last two decades of his life. His Meditations, written as a series of notes to himself and subsequently published by many publishers, provide a superb overview of Modern Stoicism. The principles of Modern Stoicism continue to serve as guides for my own life.
The writer’s second question: “What do I need to prepare for life moving forward?” The informed response to her own question is this: “… make choices about what I want to do with the rest of my life and … figure out how to give life meaning as a dying person.” This is wonderful advice, and I recommend it widely. What do you care about? What do you want to do?
These questions led the writer to her third question: “What do I want?” As with most people, she had spent her life doing what needed done or what she perceived should be done. Finally, she was turning to the question: “What do I want?” Her conclusion was two-fold: First, find meaning in mundane tasks such as washing the dishes and cleaning the house. Second, spend time with loved ones doing what they love to do.
Question four seems obvious if you’ve been following my work during the last decade-and-a-half: “What really matters?” The writer reached the same conclusion I reached: “… what really matters to me, are relationships—relationships with myself, with other people, with animals, and with the natural world. Creating and nurturing these relationships is what I value most.”
Question five is rooted in the idea that our time is short: “Do I have time for this?” The author has realized that our lives are short. As a result, here’s her bottom line: “If doing something makes a positive difference in my life or enhances my well-being, then do it; if it doesn’t, then don’t do it.” This is great advice for all of us, all the time.
Question six: “Will this action enhance my quality of life?” The author created a list of seven items that fit into the category of enhancing quality of life:
(1) Save the cards, letters, email messages, and text messages people send you because they are living eulogies that you can enjoy now, before you die.
(2) Post updates about your health and experiences on a website designed for interactions between you and those who care about you. She mentions Caring Bridge. I suspect social media platforms provide this opportunity for many people. Personally, I will continue to focus on those close to me.
(3) “Find a support group.” At least for me, this “support group” includes my friends, near and far.
(4) Write letters to your family and friends to read in the wake of your death. Because I suspect most or all of us will lose habitat and therefore die at about the same time, I’m skipping this bit of advice. In addition, I prefer to focus on the here and now rather than on what might happen in the wake of my death.
(5) “Plan to do something fun or pleasing each day.” Duh.
(6) “Do something new.” This is a fine idea that I encouraged in my classes on campus for many years. In fact, I would argue that doing something new is pivotal to one’s emotional growth. Another phrase that fits into this category is one you’ve probably already heard: bucket list. If you don’t have a bucket list, perhaps now is the time to create your list and complete it.
(7) On a similar note, “schedule activities to look forward to.” I suspect the author is thinking about more than mundane tasks such as washing the dishes and cleaning the house. Personally, I plan and look forward to seeing friends, near and far. My friends are tremendously important to me. I suspect the same sentiment applies to you.
Finally, question seven: “What can I do to help others in my position?” In response, the author writes about legal issues and her involvement with them. She also reiterates remaining connected to important people in her life.
The concluding three paragraphs focus on the here and now. The author writes about giving away things she doesn’t need, as well as becoming comfortable with her relationships before she dies. Now is a good time to address this issue. She reminds herself daily that her near-term death is part of her life. This offers her “the opportunity to be [her] best self and to spend the time [she has] living fully in the present.”
She reiterates this point in her next-to-last paragraph: “Every day, I remind myself that knowing I am dying offers me the opportunity to be my best self and to spend time I have left living fully in the present.”
Her bottom line is a trenchant reminder for each of us: “Sometimes, I am happier than I have ever been, perhaps because I have let go of the past and the past has let go of me. It simply isn’t relevant anymore. I live more centered in the present moment than I ever have, and I am just plain happy to be here—right now.”
Deb Rodney, a member of our community, wrote this poem about navigating these times.
Guy is respectfully mentioned in the stanza.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9KOzOr8FHlo
Every one of us ponders our lives and inevitable deaths to some degree or other, if you believe in an invisible white man in the sky, whose mummy never got laid!! you are probably terrified of being made accountable for every breach of that white guy's rule book, one he never followed himself, the pathos is pitiful!
I've considered myself in 'Hospice' for well over the decade Guy and I have been friends and colleagues, I've had so many 'Brushes with Death' I can't count them all.
I've had some really beautiful experiences with 'Hospice' so I'm not afraid of death, I'm too busy living in the present to worry about an afterlife, which in itself sounds like an anthropogenic delusion.
Another gift Guy has given me.
One final point on suffering. My sister-in-Law died from Motor Neurone Disease, her last 20 minutes on earth was strangulation, her death this way, traumatised our entire family.
My darling Mum called a family meeting after and made everyone state publicly if they wanted intervention, if they were in a similar predicament. Many hands were hoisted, including mine.
I'll finish on a lighter note, a quote from Guy:" I have a long list of people I would like to see dead, my names not on the list", I quote Guy often on this.
Our collective position is, make the most of every peaceful moment we have, seize that moment, the human movie is drawing to a catastrophic conclusion, sooner than previously thought.
Added below, for obvious reasons.
Have a great birthday on Feb' 29 dude, I don't fancy your chances of having another one :)
https://kevinhester.live/2019/06/24/navigating-hospice-at-the-edge-of-extinction/