Dying Well

If anyone has suggestions for how a Christian with a terminal illness can learn to die well, please offer them here. Thank you.

I sent this to our two Colorado Senators

Dear Senator:

I read that 100 watt incandescent bulbs will be illegal to produce after 2012 and the same goes for 40 watts after 2014. If this is the law, it is a terrible imposition on the choices of American citizens.

My wife has chemical and environmental sensitiveness, and cannot stand fluorescent lights. They literally make her sick. This is true for millions of Americans as well.

Is there any provision for these environmentally sensitive people under this new oppressive legislation. If not, there should be.

Best,

Doug Groothuis

Loss of Contact

One of saddest of the many sad things about protracted illness is that the one suffering often loses some of or all of their ability to express his or her thoughts in speech and writing. This loss is painful, of course, for the one experiencing it; but it is likewise painful to the sufferers friends and family.

My aged mother, who lives far from me, has been experiencing severe physical problems for over two months. Her maladies have compromised both body and mind. When she is on opiates, she simply is not her normal self. But even when she is off of them, her pain, fears, and fatigue make her different from the person who would always so readily talk with me over the phone--the person who was a famously faithful letter and card writer. There is now more silence than speech; and no more cards or letters. I cannot simply call Mom to check in or to lament or to rejoice. I miss her voice, her cheerfulness, her faithfully-expressed love for me and my wife.

Others experience similar losses in other settings. The once-vibrant friend now struggles to find the right words and gets confused so often. Words slip away and an awkward silence ensues. We look into eyes and wonder what lies beyond them.

These long silences of illness, the absence of welcomed and wanted words, are among the most painful of pains for those suffering along with the wounded ones.

Yet even as his earth-bound, and disease-ridden creatures go mute, God continues to speak, to speak through the testimony of Scripture, through the loving acts of friends, and even--if we listen carefully enough--through the long silences of the suffering...

The Grasshopper Drags Himself Along--Along With the Adult Child

Recently, I was called upon to parent my parent. This came during a recent trip to help my mother get out of rehabilitation and back into her long-time home. Since I have not reared children, this was a radically new experience. This is not the teacher-student relationship. That I understand (to some degree). This is not the preacher-congregation relationship. That I understand (to some degree). Rather, it is an adult child having to coach, coax, and prod an ailing and out-of-sorts (but brave and tough) elderly parent. As the younger mortal, I have abilities--mental and physical--that are waning for my dear mother; thus, I am the one to do the research, make some tough decisions, and insist on some things she would rather not do--along with her loving husband of eighteen years.

One feels inadequate, stretched, and--at times--desperate. Yet I found that God encouraged me through some passages in Psalm 25 ("in you I put my hope all day long") and in the general sense that God was present and working through it all. Things have declined further since I left after my not quite one-week trip there. The progress she made has been lost and she is back in the hospital. And I am a thousand miles away, beginning a more than a full-time teaching load.

Most adult children will weather this kind of lamentable endeavor as they and their parents age. While some are derelict in their duties, it is a divinely-appointed time to reflect on one's own mortality and morbidity (see Ecclesiastes 12), and to depend on the strength and wisdom from above to navigate some unfamiliar and unpleasant circumstances (James 1). Yet all should be done within the imperative to "honor your mother and father" and to "love your neighbor as yourself." But this must not be in our own strength, but rather "yet not I, but Christ who lives within me."

The grasshopper, once so young and spry and sassy, now drags herself along--or has to be lifted and dragged by others (Ecclesiastes 12). We watch and lament, seeing in this elderly mortal an image of our own decay and degradation (should we make it that far). Prayers seem to bounce off heaven and ricochet back on our heads.

Dog's Life; Dog's Death; Her Life

A chronically ill woman pondered the euthanizing of a young dog, put to sleep because of untreatable epilepsy. He is out of his misery; her misery remains. And euthanasia is wrong for humans...

Sad

For many with chronic illness, doctor visits are their main form of social interaction. Do you wonder why they are sad?

Put on the China Hat

A friend of mine was counseled on how to help a chronically ill person who was going to stay at her home for a few days. The host said, "I'm going to put on my China hat." By this, she meant that just as she had to learn the culture of China when she lived there, she was willing to learn the culture of the chronically ill person when she came to visit her.

This is much wisdom in this. The chronically ill may be part of your "culture," but their experience of that culture is far different, given the abnormalities of their bodies. If you want to help them, put on "the China hat" and listen to their culture. Please.