Death - to Die or to Keep Alive?

Twelve days of crazy times at the hospital, and, most of them have been surrounding whether to allow a loved one to die or force a loved one to live. Or at least that's how I see it. 

And, as I see it, these choices are made based on religious belief, or should I say, cultural belief, or should I better yet say, culture trumps everything, including death. 

If a loved one is sick enough to be put on a breathing tube, kept alive with monitors and oxygen, then that person is most likely going to die, and the only reason they are still alive is because of these artificial means. 

"We want to do everything we can for him. He was so giving, he took care of us when we were broke, we are doing the same for him." Is a cultural more' based on belief, yet the reality is artificially living is death. And the family will be broke, moreso now than ever, because of the expense of being kept "alive." And in the meantime, money, people, emotions, abilities, are being spent to do so. 

A loved one is declared brain dead, yet keep on oxygen until the family can arrive and say good-bye. One day, two days, five days later, the family is praying for a miracle. And the miracle is for the person to rise. And this will happen because of faith. 

Tradition to do all that can be done, and then some, because a miracle will happen if there's faith, and the loved one will rise and recover. 

A family gathers around a loved one's bed, he says his good-byes, kisses the photo of his spouse (who has long passed), and his pacemaker is turned off. And this is his choice, knowing he will be reunited with his loved one, while those he loves weep. 

A loved one slips into a comotose state, and the family is divided - death or life, existence or living. Where is the cutting-off point? When is a decision made? And the family looks to their religious beliefs - temporariness, meaningful existence, perception. 

Tradition to have hope that an afterlife is more than an existence. And so the good-bye is painful, yet eagerly given. 

In many ways, the decision is made for them. The living's reality is so different from the dying's reality, and yet we place ours on theirs, and our wishes become their death, or living sentences. 

And this. 

Oban, Scotland 6/2019 - Living in History

Hawaii - March 2020 - Ch ch ch changes -

On March 3, 2020, Jenna and I and Tempest and Tom flew to Hawaii for 7 days. We had been dreaming of this trip for a year, with planning beginning in January.

We took an early morning flight from SLC to LA, then from LA to Honolulu, arriving about 10am. By the time we got our car and lunch, we were on the road to Laie by 1pm, checked into our place by 3pm, and on the lovely semi-private beach just steps away from our Airbnb by 4pm. The sun was still shining, the water was warm, and we were able to let out a deep sigh - we made it!!!

As I've written before, Jenna and I have traveled together several times over the years. It charges both our batteries - we're great travel buddies, we enjoy each other's company, and neither of us is too high-maintenance.

Except -

The next morning, Wednesday, Tempest and I headed to Ted's for pastries for breakfast, and then we visited our beach, then drove to another, stopped for lunch and shaved ice, then learned the kids could find more marine life at Shark's Cove, a few miles up the road from our place. So off we went.

We walked around the beautiful coral reef, being careful where we placed our feet, watching the little fishies and crabs swim in the tidal pools. I was a little ahead of Jenna and kids. We climbed over the most distant reef, was able to see the ocean wash up onto the reef then fill the tidal pools. I stepped down first, and snap.

I had just been congratulating myself on how cautious and careful I had been, walking these reefs (almost like lava) in my flip-flops, when I stepped down, and my foot just folded in on itself.

Not a good feeling. I looked down, my right foot was turning white, there was a bloody gash on my knee, my hands were bleeding, and I couldn't move.

So - Jenna and kids arrived, we had a quick prayer, and Jenna hollered for help. This was not a quiet cove, and there were probably 100 to 150 people exploring.

A family, I later learned were from Boise, came to our rescue as well as a young woman who was an orthopedic physical therapist. They hopped me over the coral, down into the water, and very carefully, stomach first, onto a boogie/body board. With their help as well as the help of 2 other men, with the PT holding my sore foot up, and with my bloody knee gathering all sorts of bacteria in the water, we made it across the cove.

At the beach-side of the cove there were 4 beach patrol men who helped me off the board, hopping in to the beach and into a "body bag," which they then carried to the road, where an ambulance was waiting.

Humiliating? Helpless? Humbled? Yes, to all 3. I'm grateful for the help, and bummed that I even needed it.

Once in the ambulance, and with oxygen on, my veins had collapsed, due to shock, and they hustled me off to the hospital with a shot of fentanyl to dull the pain.

At the Kahuku Hospital ER, I was placed on a hospital bed, with a wet swim suit. In the meantime, Jenna and kids had followed us there, and she took the kids back to our place for dinner and a movie. Bless them - the most loving patient family ever!

X-rays, Tetanus shot, irrigating and bandaging of wounds (my knee wouldn't hold stitches, and the beach patrol guy told me I'd have a great Hawaiian tattoo), a brace/cast was made for my foot, I was bound up, and with a pair of crutches, we headed back "home."

Mind you, this was the end of day 2, with us having only spent 1 night in our Airbnb, 1 block from the beach. Glory!

We had a wonderful vacation - Polynesian Cultural Center, Pearl Harbor, the Honolulu Aquarium, beaches and beaches and beaches, fun food, and even with rain and crutches, I am so grateful we were able to get this vacation in. Because - 

Once hitting the airport in LA, the world began to crumble - 

On the flight back to SLC, I sat by a young man who was extremely fidgety. I wondered if he was coming off something. And I asked him how he was. His reply, "I work for the Jazz. Shit's coming down today, and I wish I could just stay on the plane." He said to, "Watch the news." 

And of course, the world did change, and 2 Jazz players tested CoVid positive, and March Madness was cancelled. 

On my way from the airport to home, calling in for the morning huddle, I was told to check in with employee health, because I'd been "out of the country," and I would need to be cleared before I could go into the office. 

Which was, actually, of great relief to me, because my foot and leg had doubled in size and were aching terribly. Because - 

Read this - do you remember your "Last Good Day"? 

This Week's Lesson -

 Thank heaven's for time - embracing the storm and being willing to change, has helped me see the past month's trauma for what it's worth - one person's opinion and an opportunity to grow.