Dear Ronni - What to say? Shit and a multitude of similar ************* Thank you for your honesty - I think it is useful for you but also for the rest of us - Terminal? We're all headed for the same terminus - just the timetable is different and never accurate - just know that we will all be travelling with you - and some will get there ahead of you - loads of loving thoughts - Jeanette

Check out the moon early morning, if possible, it's glorious, and with wispy clouds running in front of it, I totally expected a lady on a broom to cross in front, laughing away. Didn't happen. A privilege of being able to walk before dawn is the stunning, daily reminder of how vast and interesting nature is, and there's a new show every day.

We are all on the same path, only in different places. I refer to it as my ride to he great rainbow walk.

Thank you for inviting, or rather demanding, that we be honest and direct with our questions. Here's one: Are you angry about having this cancer? If so, about what/or whom? And how do you handle the anger? Well, since your diagnosis, I've decided a thing or two. I'll swear when I want, with some respect for others, like children. I yelped repeatedly when walking today, for no reason, it seemed natural and felt good, free, animalistic.

Keep taking care of all parts of yourself, including the cancer ones.

One more thing. I love you for being who you are and having taught how to grow old well.

Nice quote, Flo.

People have told me that once others find out you're terminal that becomes your identity, so you might not want to lead with that. At what point in conversation does your health status usually come up? I know it's on your mind, but do casual acquaintances need to know and do you want them to?
We're all terminal, aren't we? Viewed in one way, you may have an advantage over most of us. When I postpone a long-awaited trip or reunion I really have no idea whether or not I'll still be around for it in this lifetime. That's why I've avoided making a bucket list. If it's important to me I try to get it done while it still matters if it's important to me.
There are a number of animal rescues in your area, and I suspect most or all of them would welcome you to sit with their cats or dogs. Puppies can be a bit rough for people who aren't used to dogs. Older cats and dogs who have lost their people are often overlooked and will appreciate a visit beyond words.
Keeping good thoughts for you, Ronni

I think I have told you this before, but my late husband had a 'near death' experience when his heart stopped for a few seconds in ER. He always referred to it as the great adventure after that. I like to think of it that way.

I was by his bedside when he died many years later. He was under morphine and seemingly asleep. As his body shut down I wondered if he was aware that he was entering the great adventure. I hope so.

Thank you so very much for writing.

Your post made me think, if someone I know told me they were terminally ill, perhaps I would just say, oh, I am so sad, and then ask them, but how are you?

Essentially trying to acknowledge my own feelings but them putting them aside to serve the other. I wonder.

As a hospice RN Case Manager, I totally agree with Mary's post. When we admit a person to hospice, we have to say if the disease progresses at the usual rate, will this person die within 6 months. Having said that, I have had quite a few patients "graduate" from hospice, or even on hospice for a year and more. Hospice organizations have so many resources - including social workers who are particularly skilled in guiding people through the sometimes complicated maze of resources. More importantly, hospice nurses are often the "sounding board" for our people - many people find it easier and better to talk with, yell at, and generally unload on someone who is not family or friend. We are there for our people.

I totally agree your comments about the"terminally ill" term, Ronni. Trying to remember of course, just being born is a sexually transmitted disease that is always fatal. (paraphrasing R.D. Laing).

I resist the need to use the big black stamp of disabuse such as terminal on anyone's personal assessment. We are always at risk in labeling anything...people, ideas, religions, countries, etc. Yes, many here are ill, but that "use by date" is still indeterminate, in my opinion.

A brief vignette about labels :
It brought to mind a friend in Nevada with a small delivery business. He was a large imposing fellow in appearance, yet a truly gentle soul with a young family, and I suspect it allowed folks to put off paying him for services in a timely fashion. He finally acquired a good sized rubber stamp of a hefty wrestler holding a club or sorts for the outside of the billing envelope . It stated in bold--" PAST DUE!" It worked wonders, by the way.

I recall when my mother was in a nursing home for several years, I would call her daily and she loved to talk about the old neighborhood and all the personalities and events we shared there. Then one day, I called and she said "I'm not interested in that anymore", and that was our last conversation before her death a few weeks later. Her thoughts and concerns had let go of this world, and she seemed to simply concentrate on the "great adventure" or the event before her. Some people have euphemistically referred to this as "I'm going to find out the secret". "Dead men don't talk" which has proven to be true through the ages. Sometimes, I think, if there is an afterlife, this is the rule--not to let the living know, so as not to spoil life's experience by confirming that it is just a phase or even some sort of high stakes game--or is it?

Dear Ronni,
As a 65-year-old woman on the journey through older age, I've been faced with issues, realities, and thoughts that I had no idea of when I was younger, such is the state of denial that we humans are about aging and death. So your honest and forthright writings have been incredibly helpful precisely because no one talks about this. When I read of your latest diagnosis, it was devastating because it felt like it was happening to a trusted friend. But I'm heartened by your bravery and spirit of curiosity, and I hope that I can embody those when my time comes. In the meantime, lead on, explorer! By the way, you and your readers might want to check out the documentary "Dying to Know," conversations between Ram Dass and Timothy Leary over the course of their long friendship, about the nature of consciousness, life, and, toward the end, death because Leary was terminally ill. He too was an explorer, as he and Ram Dass were their whole lives, and unafraid of what lay ahead. It's a fascinating, moving film.

Thank you for your openess Ronni. "Terminal illness" is a handy for some but dried up label and I don't care for it either. I've decided if I get to that place where I am forewarned I shall say that I am dying in whatever time is guessed for me. For my family and friends, I will invite them to do some living with me as much as possible. Some may not care for it but you can't please everyone.

For a cat love in, you might try the cat cafe in Portland, though I see it is closing at the end of the month. I enjoy going to one in Seattle.

Sallie Tisdale is a nurse who mainly cares for the dying. She knows a lot about how people die.

In her excellent, beautiful, unflinching book, “Advice for Future Corpses *And Those Who Love Them,” Tisdale writes about preparing for our death and for those of people around us. A “good death” is something different for everyone, but she says,

“We spend our lives creating our future, by creating habits, learning from experience, examining our weaknesses and strengths. Our lives as we live them day by day create the person we will be at the moment of death. With every passing day, we create the kind of death we will have.”

When you say you want to be awake, lucid, not drugged or in pain…to experience the event of dying as clearly as possible, I think you are preparing for that very well.

And I hope you find batches of puppies and kittens!

Ronni, I just read your blog after not reading for a while. Shit...! Not much to say I guess, except that I love you and Yaakov sends his love. I was sick for the past 3 months and just using the computer as little as necessary. I love the ship idea. We are all in the same boat. Time to have as much fun as possible. Playing with kittens and puppies sound like a great idea. You are leading the way for all of us. Love your down to earth and matter of fact attitude. You give me strength and set an example, not that that is so much what you want, but in any case. Lots of love and hugs. Sali and Yaakov, all the way in Israel

It is a difficult thing to talk about - dying. And for most people, I suspect, an even harder thing to write about. I am thankful that you have chosen to do so.

Since my stroke, and other increasingly complicated medical conditions, I think about dying a lot. It often keeps me up at night. And periodically, on some days, it interrupts my thoughts. I have come to realize that for me, it's not dying itself that is so frightening. It's how I will die. Will it be painful? Will I linger? And because I have no family, live alone, and most friends in the last few years have either died or moved away, will anyone even care or visit me as my time ends?

Reading this post and those since you began to talk about your impending death, have helped me. I know they will continue to do so. How ironic! To be learning from someone who's writing I have loved for so many years, so filled with vibrancy and life, is now teaching me how to die! I wish with all my heart this was a lesson you did not have to teach. But since you have chosen to do so, I will be an earnest and grateful student.

Ronnie, We all are terminal in a sense,You are acutely aware of it.
Have you ever taken the train ride Rocky Mountaineer?That might be fun if you are upto it.It is not too far from where you are.
Thank you for all the wisdom you have imparted over the years to us-fellow riders.

I wonder if you're aware of the existence of "Death Cafes". Maybe you even told us about them, I can't remember. Any way, there may be others who aren't aware of this international movement designed to take the fear out of talking about death.

"At a Death Café people drink tea, eat cake and discuss death. Our aim is to increase awareness of death to help people make the most of their (finite) lives.

PDX Death Café is part of an international movement. Visit DeathCafe.com to learn more and search for a Death Café near you. Check our schedule of upcoming Cafes in the Portland metro area."

I also echo the prior sentiments of admiration and respect, as well as your honoring us by taking us on your journey to the Unknown.

Whoops, it wasn't Chicago, it was Blood, Sweat and Tears. I love them.

I'm so glad I took the time to read your post, and all the comments before mine. What a great community! I postponed it because 1. my computer couldn't download your post at all the first 2 times I tried, and 2. I wanted to give extra respect for whatever you might share. I've been with several dying people in my life, and I think of it as the big drama that can be played out in different ways by the choices of each of us. I have enjoyed so much how Hospice people help and am amazed that some people shy away from them. Their choices. Yep, I'm along on that big old boat you're floating in/on...merrily down the stream of life and death. I am reminded of sitting here in the museum and looking across the street at the funeral home. Some guests came in and said, that must be disturbing to look at all the time. I said, "it's just part of life."

Hi Ronni, The medical world with your diagnosis makes you a statistic in their world. How you move forward living is not, you write that script. Huggzz

Unfortunately removing pain sometimes means drugged up.
Pain would be my worst fear and second would be lingering on too long.
Since you are in Oregon, would you ever consider assisted suicide?
I don’t believe in an afterlife and I hope I’m correct. Anything, no matter how wonderful at first, would eventually become exhaustingly, depressingly boring and meaningless.
I do wish I could check back in occasionally just to see if the world ever gets its act together or trails off into oblivion.

Ronnie, you are so brave. While I like your attitude and of course, respect this choice, I am like Woody Allen who said, " I am not afraid of death I just don't want to be there when it happens!" To me, horrific pain would make it an unbearable final few moments of life. Better to be in some drug-induced state. But, again, that's my outlook. Call me chicken! I also agree with the one writer who suggested self-indulgence now. Oh yes, this the time to really use Amazon and all that can come to your doorstep. Have fun! Again, I echo those who have applauded you for your honesty and openness. We are all in this together and like it or not, that old bell will toll for each of us someday.

Karin

It's funny. Dad got hospice services. We had to lose his great internist. She was terrific. She was board certified in geriatric medicine and had owned her own home health agency for 10 years. When Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer, she talked to me for 40 minutes. But, even with witnessing the deaths of mom and my fiance, I didn't know what to expect. I didn't care for the meds they used, either. One was too strong and put Dad in kind of a trance his last weekend.

My cat is elderly. When she dies, I think I will foster or volunteer at a cat and dog shelter.

I like information. A book by Sherwin Nuland called How We Die was a big help to me. I'm sure there's many others since his came out.

Ronni, how do you deal with your feelings about terminal illness? Do you see a counselor?

Your questioning mind often raises questions mine mirrors. So, I’ll be content with whatever crosses your mind you wish to share here. I went down this road for a couple years not long ago with my only then still living friend I had known all my life. There had been others who had died, especially beginning when I was young in college, then some later in life, including family. In almost every instance, except with my mother with whom I was present, our interactions were by letter, phone call — the few with digital capability chose not to use such systems, though I could enjoy video interaction — perhaps a generational preference.

I concluded what was best was to allow each of them to take the lead in what we discussed — what subjects were on their mind — eliciting what information they wanted from me, or introducing matters they wanted to talk about — often they eluded to memories rather than speculations about the future’s unknown despite any curiosity. They expressed interest about the future of others for whom they cared who would remain, what life here would be like after they died, and spoke of missing knowing all that.

This also proved to be true with individuals I worked with professionally and a few with whom I sustained contact long after completing our therapy relationship. One such person was someone whose reaction toward me was initially contentious . She later realized her attitude was due to her denial, then became a person I was asked to intervene with several times over several years. At one point. she became a hospice patient, then finally left that service having long since exceeded her life’s duration’s expectation. Long afterward her condition resulted in re-assignment to hospice again.

Her status changed again for a lengthy time, during which she was back to eating and we laughed and talked together. Eventually, her health once again declined (100 yrs age by now). She chose palliative care this time to be her path until her death. So life’s actual termination can prove to be quite unpredictable. Perhaps the path one chooses to follow might best be made as one goes along, altering the route based on judgements and preferences at the time — pretty much how earlier life has been lived.

Do seek what gives you pleasure, enjoy friends, perhaps wrap up any unfinished business, personal or other, if that suits your fancy. Just be comfortable, doing what makes you happy seems to me, but you’ll become the expert on that topic which I gather you will generously share here.

Thank you for all you have written with such grace and openness. And as a gesture of solidarity, I will be your companion in eating more ice cream.

I've never liked the idea that people can learn from another's misfortune but it is true. Your openness will have positive repercussions that resound long after your journey is over. Thank you.

"What it's like to get older" is what you billed, and I am so fortunate that you're willing to share this going-to-the-end part of the journey. We learn the most from people who are dying, and this post today epitomizes that fact -- lots of lessons based on your experiences. I cried as I read but mostly I took notes. Yes, these are only YOUR experiences, but they are indeed valuable. Thank you, again, for being willing to share as much as you are able. As with all the others here, I wish I could make it easier for you somehow.

We love you Ronnie, and we hate this disease that will take you from us. Some day we will figure it all out.

Thank you, Ronnie, for everything. I first "met" you when you wrote about your mother and the end of her life. I hope you have someone to be with you and help just as you were there for her this next while.

One of the greatest privileges of my life was being able to sit quietly and close to my mother in her final moments, to study those hands that had done so much for me, and to know she was safe and warm and comfortable when the time came. How I miss her.

The puppies, the kittens....YES! Buckets of them.... Why not?!

Living life more intensely, being more aware, being right in the moment. Abandoning the insignificant, celebrating the minute, tiny details of that which you enjoy.

I wish you all these things and more as you share this final journey with us.

It hurts my heart to know you are leaving but I will always remember you in whatever time is left to me.

XO
WWW

Wow, you seem to have such a positive attitude towards it all! I especially like that you don't mind questions being asked. Personally, I've experienced a close relative being announced terminally ill, and he wasn't up for any questions.

Thank you for bringing up this topic and talking so bluntly about it!

A couple of years ago, my best friend of over 50 years and college roommate told me in a phone conversation that she had decided to discontinue further treatment for her cancer and was ready for the arrival of her 'end date'. We talked for a long time about how her family was adjusting to her decision and made a few old college crude jokes. I made plans (via conversations with her partner) to surprise her with a visit on her 70th birthday. I also made a little video of pictures of us from our college days forward, set to the Simon and Garfunkel "Old Friends, Bookends". We laughed, talked, joked, looked at the annuals of our college days, had dinner with her kids, and crammed as much as we could in the time I was there. Before I left, we watched the little video and cried together. Then she asked me if I would speak at her funeral. Of course I would...and did, two weeks later. To be a part of her journey will always be a deep and abiding joy.

Thank you. Just thank you.
And....sunsets and sunrises.
And the ocean, if it calls to you.
And hospice. It helped our Mom, and us.
Thank you.