End Of Life Care, What Do You Want? Part II

I've been thinking more and more about death these passing days, and these are not suicidal ideations--these are fantasies of living a long life and dying of old age, a natural death. Some people age really well, I'm thinking of my grandmother from my paternal side who is in her eighties and just had a hip replacement--taking no narcotics during her recovery (unfortunately, there is no genetic link between her and I). She's back to walking on her machine in the exercise room. Grandma, the woman who I usually refer to, has chronic pain, especially in her knees. Her back has been bent forward after her wreck in her SUV. She refused to go to physical therapy, and she paid the consequences. Now, she can barely move around the house, much less go grocery shopping or something else equally difficult.

My physical therapist, a lean man with a attractive and exotic looking face, promises me that soon, I will be in the best shape of my life. He was encouraged by the fact that I expressed interest in joining a gym. He asked to do what. I told him that I wanted to do some cardio, but also, when the time was right, lift weights. To put it bluntly, exercising and losing weight will help me age better.

But still, you can't avoid the aging process completely, and our society, more or less, either dismisses elderly people or expresses down right disdain for them. My closest friends are much older than I am. I believe that they are smarter than I am, and therefore can impart some wisdom to me in my times of need (which, honesty, I'm always needing someone). The Adivsor is an excellent example. I told him that I really wanted to see him to talk to him about my grandmother, and he responded right away. I saw him the next day. In this category also fits The LSU Professor and Harry, and probably soon, I will have similar relations with my Engl 201B professor, as he's discussed his mental illness with me, as he assumed I had one (or maybe I told him at some point, and I forgot). When you're clearly able-bodied, and you're walking around with a large service dog, people jump to their own conclusions. Polite people don't express those conclusions, while people who are rude will (and it's happened).

So, not only do I wonder about my own aging process, but I'm beginning to see that the Advisor and Harry and the LSU Professor will not be around forever. Eventually, they will die, and perhaps they will go before I do--perhaps many years before I do. As I become older, I will be left with no one. My mother will die, my father will die, I have no siblings, I have no husband. I will spend the rest of my days on this wretched earth--alone.