Category Archives: Sickness & Health

Almost Gone

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:

I’ve always been a very secular Jew. I’ve gone to temple on the High
Holidays but cannot say with deep conviction what I believe in. I am
dying of cancer (probably a month or two to go). I’ve always assumed
I would be cremated but my wife is asking me to allow her to bury me.
I think of my body as a suit that used to fit me but is now ready for
the rag bin. But I don’t know what to do.

Almost Gone

 
Dear Almost Gone:

Some people have deeply held views about death and dying. Many
others are ambivalent or confused. You’re asking about an issue we’re
all going to face. If we don’t address it directly, we leave the decision
in the hands of others.

 
If you’re truly not tied to the idea of cremation, then you should
accede to your wife. Why? Because she’ll have to face the mourning
and grieving without you there. Knowing someone will die is not the
same as having them gone. Having a place to go to, and a place to put
a stone on the marker, is comforting. It gives a physical resonance to
the passage of a loved one. The same can be true of a yartzeit
plaque/light at your temple. Grief is never easy. You cannot predict
what rituals will best serve her. If she has a grave to go to and tend,
and a place to go and to talk to you, to tell you about the feelings and
process of her life, she may weather the difficult passage that’s
looming more easily. My vote is to say Yes, and, if you are physically
able, to help her choose the plot where your old suit will spend its last
days.

Recuperating

Dear Readers:

I recently had back problems and disk surgery. I have learned many
lessons that I wanted to share. These are tips about harvesting
physical and spiritual lessons from physical adversity, and about
navigating daily life.

Recuperating

 
Dear Recuperating:

One of my Torah teachers tried hard to teach me that the most important part of
loving and having faith in G-d was to be able to say Thank You for lessons
learned through hardship with as much sincerity as one says Thanks for those
learned through joy. It’s a rare person who embraces that teaching easily.
In addition to the spiritual insights, here’s some very practical tips for coping with
debilitating body issues: An early side effect of chronic pain is loss of energy.
You might be more tired during the day, have trouble with the daily chores, and
care less about what remains undone. There’s simply less of you to go around
because your body is fighting pain. You’ll start taking over-the counter-
medications but go to your doctor soon to get a handle on what’s appropriate and
safe. There’s a great website (and maybe others) called http://www.drugs.com that’ll
help you know what not to mix together. That’s fine for 2 a.m. info, but ask your
doctor for the right diagnostic tests to find out if what you have will pass on its
own or needs more serious interventions.

 

Buy the right accommodation tools. For backs, here’s my minimum set: a long-
handled grabber that’ll save you from reaching too high or bending too low. Ditto
for a long-handled dustpan and broom combo, great for when the cat food dish
slips from the grabber and makes a mess on the kitchen floor. Ask about the right
positions to sit and lie down in. You can make things much better or worse with
wrong choices. A recliner is better than a soft sofa. Buy some really large gel ice
bags, placed in a reachable place in your freezer. Have water bottles with sippy
tops everywhere you might lie down. Ditto reading glasses, books, tissues, and a
pen/paper for writing notes to yourself.

 

Take an inventory of family and friends who’re available to help. Don’t burn them
out too early, because you may need them if you have surgery later. A household
full of family may also impose too many requests on you, so make it clear what
you cannot do. Living alone poses other challenges; see if you can find a reliable
teenager you can pay to do heavy cleaning and lifting If you cannot drive, line up
folks to take you to doctor appointments. Admit this going to last a while and plan
accordingly. Eventually life gets better.

Grieving Widow

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:

Last week my beloved husband of six years was killed in a freak ocean
accident. His body has not been recovered. It was sudden and
shocking, and was reported in newspapers around the state. We’d
been planning a future. We had an RV, a coop of chickens, and dreams
for the next thirty years. Now I am bereft and alone. I can only bear to
be around my family, but I must go back to work this week. I am the
financial manager for a non-profit that employs 25 people and has a
board of directors almost as large. I’ve been flooded with emails and
phone calls, but I haven’t had any emotional energy to respond to
anyone. It feels overwhelming to contemplate going back to the office
but I know I can’t do it all from home. How can I insulate myself?

Grieving Widow
Dear Grieving:

First of all, condolences. What a horrific story. I am sure you are in shock as well
as grieving. Send an email to everyone who has communicated with you in any
form. Make it gracious and very clear. Say simply: I am overwhelmed with grief. I
am trying to get through each day and do what needs to be done. I appreciate
your caring and good wishes but just having to talk about what happened
debilitates me and makes me weepy. There will come a time when I am ready to
hear what a great guy he was and to share all my feelings. I’ll let you know when
that is. In the interim, please respect my absolute need to be quiet, to focus on
work, and to avoid being more emotional than I can cope with being. Ask the
exec at your organization to reinforce the message. Most people will respect your
wishes. Those that don’t, simply say, I cannot do this now, and walk away.
If you do not have a support network of friends and family, and a good doctor
and/or counselor, please focus on getting yourself some people to be with. You
may want isolation now, but beyond a certain period it is not a good thing.

Helpful Harriet

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:

Please help me know how to help a friend who has just been
diagnosed with cancer. She’s been told she has cancer in both breasts,
in one of which she had cancer and a lumpectomy fifteen years ago.
When I responded with “So you’ll do a double mastectomy?” she
nearly took off my head, though her primary care doctor told her the
same thing three days later. She’s much more interested in talking
about problems with a colleague at work, or her reconstructive surgery
than in dealing with any of the more imminent medical imperatives.
How can I get her to face reality and stop living in denial?

Helpful Harriet

 
Dear Helpful:

You can be the best help by being her friend, not her doctor, medical
social worker, or other professional engaged in planning her care.
Kubler-Ross’s five stages of grief start with denial for a reason.
Because it’s the most human response to tragedy or even lesser bad
news: to put up our arms, cover our eyes, and stick our head in the
ground. We’ve all done it, and if you have not then your life has been
exceptionally more lucky than most of humanity. For your sake I hope
it continues, but the odds are long.

 
The best way to help is to let her talk, to listen and murmur consistent
support, and keep saying, Tell me how I can help. The realities of her
situation will catch up with her much faster than anyone else could
make her see. The medical industry will process her body and you will
need to be there for her emotions and to help her navigate the simpler
realities of her day-to- day: transportation to/from appointments, the
logistics of food and household, communication about her condition.
Between now and then, just let her ramble and be in denial as long as
she needs to. Life will set its own inexorable limits. FYI, so you’re
ready, the next four stages are anger, bargaining, depression, and
acceptance. Some people get stuck for longer or shorter periods, but
cancer has its own trajectory. Be ready to help her with this difficult
journey.

Scared Poopless

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:

Please don’t yell at or lecture me. I haven’t been to a doctor in twenty
years. I’m 58, overweight, and I’ve been having some strange and
distressing intestinal symptoms for the last few months. No I have not
had the dreaded colonoscopy. Yes I have tried dietary changes and I
can tell that some things help (less wheat and processed foods). But I
am scared enough to think about confronting the unknown. I’ve
identified three possible gastro-intestinal specialists with good
reputations. Only one is a woman, whom I would prefer, but the other
two come very highly recommended. I want to interview each of them
before I decide which doctor to whom I’m going to entrust my life and
health. Can you give me criteria other than my gut to decide which
one is right for me?

Scared Poopless

 
Dear Scared:

Pick up the phone. Now, today. You can spin a wheel or toss coins to
decide which one to call first, but set an appointment with each of
them asap asap asap. Go to the first one you can get into. Try and set
appointments with the others for a week or so after. If you cannot get
in soon, ask to be put on the waiting list for cancellations. You’d be
amazed at how often the phone will ring with, Can you come in
today/tomorrow…? Here’s my thinking: The first doctor you see will
almost certainly schedule some form of diagnostic test(s). If you fall in
love you can cancel the other appointments. But if you get news you
hate or simply want to compare insights or styles, you’ll have a second
opinion set up and waiting. Most docs will use the test results from Dr.
#1, but #2 might order other diagnostics.

 
As for ignoring your body for decades, you’re not alone. But you’ve
now reached (or passed) the age when you need to change your bad
habits. Bodies are mechanical and chemical systems. Our souls may be
eternal but the mechanisms that support daily life are not. We wear
down and out like any other working tool and living being. Think about
your car or your pets. Would you have tried to drive a vehicle for
decades without an oil change or tune-up? Or leave a puppy without a
rabies shot or flea meds? You deserve at least at much attention.
You’re overdue. Dial today.

Beleaguered

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:

Please help me with cell phone etiquette and incipient homicide. I lost
my husband two months ago. We cremated him then and had a
memorial service this weekend. I took the ashes and the flowers from
the service to the ocean and did a private ritual with my sons. While
we were driving there I got text messages from not one, or two, but
from seven (count them seven!) different people, each of whom
professed to be sending sensitive and caring feelings on this difficult
day. If they really wanted to be sensitive, they should have left me
alone! How can I get people to respect reasonable limits on my access
without being without having to give up my smart phone lifeline to the
world?

Beleaguered

 
Dear Beleaguered:

You have the right to be connected to the world and also the right to
filter who has access to you. Yes, people should be more sensitive. At
a minimum they should have emailed, not texted. I’m an old-fashioned
kind of gal: people have abandoned hand-written notes but they’re
personal and meaningful, especially in cases of bereavement. But the
world is more modern and texting has become the way that many
people, selfishly or not, communicate: out of my brain and into yours,
no matter what the cost to you.

 
In these specific cases, I will assume you did not respond the day of
the private time with your sons. They may feel a little hurt, but you
can send each (or all, via bcc) an email that says: Thanks for your
words of concern. The timing and texting were distracting, but I know
you meant well. Please use email not texts for the next few months.
Otherwise I’ll have to turn my phone off, which would be a hardship to
my family and me. Thanks for respecting my need to go much slower
during this time of transition. Anyone who cannot respect a sincere
request like that should be tossed from your address book.

Caring Daughter

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:

How best to communicate with three siblings when I am the primary
caregiver/contact for my Mom who lives in a memory-care residence
near my home? Their negative comments and obstructionist behavior
are causing me great stress, as well as confusion at the care center, so
I would prefer to have as little contact with them as possible, though I
understand she’s their mother too and they have concerns and the
right to communicate with her. When Mom’s doing well, I never
receive thanks or get positive feedback from siblings, who call rarely
are visit almost never. Recently, she had negative reaction to a new
medication for the first time; they were accusatory, incessant with
their questions and did not use this situation to communicate love for
her or to display any sense of shared responsibility. Though I was out
of town during most of this episode, I was in constant touch with
Mom’s residence and professional staff. They responded appropriately
by modifying or removing meds and she improved considerably.

 

Before moving near me, Mom and Dad lived near a different sibling,
but it soon became clear they needed more care than this residence
could provide. This sibling only communicated with us about parents
when there was crisis though she would make demands of us, both
financial and timewise. She failed to provide Mom with aides trained in
dementia care though two siblings recommended an appropriate
agency. Both parents had multiple hospitalizations. After Dad passed
we all agreed Mom would do better in a residence near me, but since
the move, they object to virtually everything and refuse to follow the
residence’s rules on having only one contact per family. Their emails to
me are only to demand information and suggest unrealistic solutions
they do not want to subsidize. Help! I would like to focus on Mom and
preserve my own health, rather than try to manage dysfunctional,
bitter siblings who seem to be counting the minutes till they’ll inherit.

Caring Daughter

 
Dear Caring Daughter:

Virtually every family with aging parents, especially those with significant
cognitive impairments or severe health conditions, faces very similar problems.
The levels of inequity are great among siblings when one is given (and accepts)
the outsized burden of being the primary parental caretaker, even if the parent is
living in a facility other than the child’s home. It’s even worse when one of the
sibs is not only the custodial parent in proximity but by having the parent in
his/her home. Generally speaking, the sib who is doing the heavy lifting should
be supported not chastised or hounded. The assisted living center is wise to
have a one-contact- per-family policy. Hopefully that contact person has the
medical power of attorney and, if at all possible, is local.

 
Whether it happens in person or by conference call/skype, you sibs need to have
a regular pow-wow to agree on priorities, finances (who pays for what related to
your mother, not inheritance), and standards of care and responsibility. That
includes regular care and crisis prep. I would initiate it with an email to all of the
them suggesting it, that would go something like this: Dear Sibs: You know we’ve
had ongoing issues taking care of our folks, first when they lived near SibA and
now that Mom is near me. I’d like to have a conference where we go over all the
regular issues such as medications, schedule of doctors/PT/etc. who care for her
and related issues like her schedule of visits to providers (summary of all that
attached), and our visits and calls to her. It’s pretty much a half-time job
managing everything, and while I appreciate that you love her and get
concerned, having to manage you and your expectations and interventions
doubles the work. Let me be really clear about this: If one of you wants to step up
and be the primary caretaker, at the level of support I have been providing or
better, say so now! If not, let&'s agree on who does what when and how, and then
leave me to do it without confusing her living center about our priorities. I’ve been
warned that the staff is overwhelmed; we don’t want her to need to move
because we don&'t follow protocol. I’m happy to continue in this role as first-up, but
not if you make it impossible to do. Please, please, please be respectful and
helpful. You could also call or visit more. She might not remember each time, but
it puts her in a much better mood for at least a little while.

 

If you have this kind of convo regularly, you can keep them from making you crazy. If it doesn&'t shut them up, tell SibC s/he is next up for caretaking. Either it gets you out of the line of fire or makes SibC an ally you can assign as a secondary communicator to the
sibs.

Wheezy

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:

I’m alive, which a week ago I wasn’t sure I would be a week ago. I had a horrible
case of the flu, and yes I got the shot, even the heavy-duty one they give seniors.
I haven’t always gotten it but after this experience I will never again even think of
skipping. Even at 10% effectiveness against this strain, if it had been worse I
might have ended up in the hospital. But thanks to the good graces of my
neighbors and friends, I made it. They brought me gallons of chicken soup, ran to
the store to get me supplies and vitamins, and walked my dog, who slept with me
on the sofa for the better part of two weeks. Even when my fever was 102,
having him breathe next to me was such a comfort. The dog I can give biscuits,
but how do I thank them?

Wheezy

 
Dear Wheezy:

You do it with three things. First a personal note of thanks to each of them,
specifically noting what they have done for you and how much of a help it was.
Second a small bouquet of flowers. It doesn&'t have to be fancy but everyone
loves to see a vase of something fresh, especially in the winter months. And
third, a copy of printed set of How to Make the Flu More Bearable instructions.
Below is what I put in mine, as I too recently lost two weeks of my life, but
customize for what has worked for you.

 
My advice: Dear Friends – Having made it through the worst illness I’ve had
since the mid-90s, here’s some advice about what to keep on hand in case you
start to go down for the count: Good friends who will make you chicken soup!
Chicken stock that you can prepare and freeze is better than store-bought, but
keep both on hand. Vitamin C; take it till your body says you’ve saturated. Other
vitamins that work for you, from Oregon grape and other lung-relief tinctures to
oregano oil to gargle with, thyme to brew tea, muscle relaxing menthol plasters
(or vapo rub), and a heavy duty anti-cold/flu cough syrup to help you sleep. Take
your temp a few times a day, and rest/rest/rest and drink/drink/drink (water lol).
Good books and streaming can help, though the flu will command lots of staring.
Keep your phone turned off and sleep. Then take another nap. It will pass, but it’s
hard for the first week. Call your doc’s office if you start to wheeze seriously or
get dehydrated.

Not/Patient

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:

My husband is a chatterbox. It&'s bad enough when we do something grueling like
buying a car and he needs to impress the sales guy with what a tough negotiator
he is, but it is particularly annoying when we drive two hours to see my specialist
at the University Hospital and he spends half the $600 appointment trying to
impress her with what he knows about my somewhat rare condition. My good
friend tries to take me but she can&'t the next visit and I know he will want to
reassert himself. How can I get him to shush so she can speak? It&'s the doc I
need to hear from.

Not/Patient
Dear Not/Patient:

You have a two-hour car ride in which to plan for a successful visit. But nothing
will work as you wish without you reminding your husband, both in the car and at
the threshold of the doctor’s door, that you are paying for you to hear her not for
her to hear him. In a marriage with established patterns, this may surprise him,
so be ready for some pushback, but make your point as strongly as you can.
In the car review the current state of your condition, recent lab tests, how you
have progressed or backslid since the last visit, and ways that you have complied
with or had problems implementing your doctor’s instructions.

 

Ask hubby lots of questions and let him exercise his vocal cords. Then agree on a
list of questions you want to make sure are addressed: diagnosis, prognosis, activities,
prescriptions, proscriptions and mandates for daily life, etc. Ask him to frame the
questions while you take notes, and then read it back to him. Lastly, extract a
promise that he will let you interact directly with the doctor, with the assurance
that only after all the items on the list have been addressed, and you have asked
her if there’s anything else she needs to say to you, will he begin to speak. Yes
that will be hard, but if he values your health he will comply.

Grieving

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:

My father died very suddenly last week. He’d seemed in excellent
health. I played tennis with him last time I visited. We’ve been
increasingly close since my mother’s death ten years ago and now I
am an orphan, though it’s a strange word to use for someone in her
fifties. I’m stunned, shocked, sad, and other than overwhelmed from
all the logistics and reality suddenly imposed on my already busy life,
confused by the fact that I never got to say good-bye. Mostly it seems
totally strange that I will never again be able to pick up the phone and
tell him any of the things that are going on in my life.

Grieving

 
Dear Grieving:

The loss of any parent, especially without the insulation of a terminal
diagnosis and/or gradual decline is tough. The loss of the second
parent is even tougher. It’s not just that the illusion of greater
mortality is closer. But also the fact that a huge part of your personal
history is gone. This week is the four-year anniversary of my own
father’s death, and I had lots of time to prepare for it. So my advice
has the sad benefit of perspective. But maybe some of what helped
me will help you allay some of the pain.

 
Talk to your father. Yes I know he’s dead but in your car, the shower,
a park, or anywhere private, talk out loud to him as though he could
hear you. Think about him before you go to sleep; you may dream
about him. On your smart phone you can talk, or on your computer
you can write, things you remember and loved about him. Make a
small altar somewhere to honor him. Put on it everything from pictures
to mementos and a candle. Go to services. Sit shiva and say kaddish.
Talk about him to people and explain what made him special.
My own father taught me to play chess, to play tennis, and to talk to
people with sincere curiosity and caring. He was smart and had a great
sense of humor. One of my favorite memories of visiting him was how
he spoke to everyone who helped care for him and tried to know them.
Como esta? to Jose from Mexico and Ca va bien? to Nanette from
Haiti. He survived Hitler, immigration, and making a new life in the US.
When I asked him once about his life he said, I never went hungry,
always slept in a bed, and never had to hold a gun. I hope your
father’s life was as good.

Dismissed!

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:

I’ve gone to the same doctor for almost ten years. I was attracted to
him because he practices a certain type of holistic medicine in addition
to having the usual MD rights and insurance access. He’s a little
moody but has helped me deal with some chronic health issues. Lately
I’ve had some persistent orthopedic issues. My physical therapist
recommended an MRI, which he agreed to order. When it came back
and showed both acute and degenerative spinal issues, I asked what
to do about it, and his answer was “Learn to live with pain.” Yikes. I
am only 58. That felt wrong. In addition, after his office failed for two
days to forward the MRI to the chiropractor that he’d insisted I go see,
he sent me a letter I can only describe as filled with male menopausal
rage asking me to stop calling his office or find another doctor. I was
dumb-founded. I’ve felt well served but now I feel angry. Should I try
to explain or should I walk?

Dismissed!

 
Dear Dismissed:

No one should entrust their health care to someone with whom they
do not have at least a civil relationship. Your doctor may or may not
have emotional issues, but he does not sound like he has either good
professional judgment or bedside manner. Surely there are other
holistic practitioners you can go to who practice whatever specialty
you think is good for you. Surely there are also other doctors you
could change to who have a better way of relating to patients and a
more efficient office staff.

 
Interview people whom you like, or people who have similar health
problems, about what doctors they see. If you are part of any local
email groups, use the group list-serve to identify your criteria and
identify other doctors. If you can interview them without committing,
then do so. If not, pick the one who seems closest to what you’re
looking for. Have your records transferred. Explain that you’re looking
for a doctor who is at least holistic friendly and who also practices
traditional medicine. You may not be able to prevent your old doctor
from writing unflattering chart notes. But you can dismiss the old
relationship as “no longer a good fit for your medical needs.” Give the
new doc at least six months to see if it’s a better relationship.

Traveler

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:

I have a very embarrassing problem that I need to resolve before I go on a three-
month trip. I recently inherited a large sum of money that will enable me to fulfill a
lifelong dream of travelling extensively in the Middle East. For me that means
more than just visiting Israel as a tourist, which I’ve done several times. I want to
volunteer in various peace schools because I committed to a non-violent solution,
as difficult as that may seem. But I’ve had a medical condition since birth that
surgery has not been able to correct. I sometimes need a bathroom immediately,
as in right away, now! I’ll be staying in places where a private bathroom is an
unheard-of luxury and I don&'t want to walk around with soiled clothes. I don&'t want to forgo the trip or to disclose too much to my hosts. Short of packing lots of
Depends, you have any good advice?

Traveler

 
Dear Traveler:

I have a simple solution that may or may not be feasible: rent a porta-
potty in each city or, failing that, get an old-fashioned chamber pot
and some lime or other smell-reducing substance you can sprinkle
over the contents until you can empty it into the communal toilet. It
may be a little embarrassing but easily enough explained by diet
changes and travel.

 
Short of that, you may need to change your plans for where you’d
planned to stay, even if that reduces your on-the- ground access to
local culture. That may be a hard choice, but short of a chamber pot or
medical miracle it may be your best option.

Impatient

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:

Help me with some coping strategies for my mom, or perhaps with my
mom is the correct grammar, because this affects how I relate to her
as well as how she relates to others. She&'s in rehab after a complicated
medical process that had my four sisters and me taking shifts in the
hospital and ICU for three weeks. I&'m the only one without a job so
I&'m on duty now that she&'s in the rehab center (approximately three
weeks is what the docs project). I can&'t tell if she&'s gotten more
impatient, or if I have. But we are snapping at one another, and I’m
watching her snap at the nurses and aides. I feel like she&'s being
incredibly unreasonable given the workload of these folks and how well
she&'s doing compared to the sad lumps in the other rooms. I&'m around
her 12+ hours a day. Is it a matter of just putting up with it or is there
something I can do to make this stay less unpleasant for all
concerned?

Impatient

 
Dear impatient:

Most of us get more impatient as we age, and especially so when we
feel helpless, and unable to take care of our own needs. Being in a
rehab facility means being at the mercy of other people schedules, and
generally having to do things we don&'t want to do: eat bad food go to
PT etc. My suggestion is somewhere between coming up with some
signals for her as in when you think she is being exceptionally crabby
and unnecessarily demanding having a cute like, say, wiping your
brow, or two fingers held up to your ear or I. Some kind of visual
reminder to her to take things down a notch.

 
But you&'re only going to get there after having had a rational
conversation that you&'re going to have to work up to. Something that
says mom this is going to be a long haul for you for me and for all
concerned so let&'s look at what your biggest complaints are, let me
figure out how I can help make those as least horrible as possible. And
in exchange I&'m asking you to try and speak more softly and kindly to
everyone around you, including me. Also 12 hours straight is a lot of
time to do anything. Make sure you have a book and laptop, perhaps
be there in four hours shifts, and limit your total exposure. I hope she
gets well soon

Hobbled

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:
Here was my yesterday: I got a cast on my leg for an Achilles tendon
injury. I hurt myself by exercising too hard to lose the weight my
doctor said I need to lose in order to cure my diabetes, or at least
keep off insulin. After I got the cast I went to the shoe repair guy to
retrofit a sandal to balance out my legs. The result, for which I am
grateful, made me remember my deceased father, who lived his last
decade with one hip. I went to the medical supply house for cast
accessories so I can shower. I picked up my monthly prescriptions. I
went to the health food store for a tincture to support healing. By the
time I got home I was ready for a good stiff drink and not at all in the
mood for my baked skinless chicken and salad dinner. I’m in my early
60’s. Is this what old age is going to be like? If so, where’s the Kool-
Aid?
Hobbled

 
Dear Hobbled:
You may be hobbled but yesterday you did lots of running around
doing things to support your healing. Mobility, whether it’s driving to
the health food store or hoisting your sheathed leg into the shower, is
an incredible gift. If the day you describe is truly enough for you to
seriously contemplate checking out, you’ve lived a pampered life for
60+ years! Yes getting older involves aches and pains and the reaping
the consequences of the excesses of your past. Yes it includes lots of
medical hassles and probably some of them are much worse than your
yesterday.

 
Recently I attended a party where the icebreaker question was: If your now self
could tell your younger self any one thing, what would it be? One great answer
was: Take better care of your body! Age 62 isn’t old, or doesn’t have to feel old.
You have decades left and they can be healthier than whatever landed you in
your current state. Work with your doctor to develop a healthy food and exercise
program and stay on it. Think slow and steady. Yes you’ll eat lots of salads, and
you may walk on flats not hills, but if you do take good care of yourself you’ll be a vibrant 82-year old and bless the day you got your wake-up call form your
Achilles tendon and the cast.

Scared Auntie

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:
My niece, age fifteen, was just diagnosed with a late stage brain
tumor. Within the first month, before they figured out what to do as a
course of treatment, she went blind overnight. They fixed that with a
colossal course of steroids, but at least she can see again. Now there’s
a choice of radiation or two kinds of chemo. Her parents have told my
niece that she can decide which to do. I think it’s crazy to leave a life
and death decision in the hands of an adolescent. especially one whose
thinking might be impaired by her disease. But I don’t want to add to
the horrific anxiety that‘s already dominating the family. I may be old
fashioned but I think they should just do whatever the doctor
recommends.
Scared Auntie

 
Dear Scared:
If the doctor thought one treatment plan was best, or even offered
better end of life quality, I’m sure s/he would have said so. By offering
the family choices, and choices probably accompanied by more
medical information and nuances than were conveyed to you, s/he’s
allowed some participation in a difficult and disempowering scenario.
The parents offer to their child mirrors that sense of at least a little
control over the horror, even if that turns out to be an illusion. So
assume, at least for the moment, that you don’t have all the facts. And                             that even if you did there is some merit in including the patient in the
process.

 
“Late stage” often implies that survival is unlikely. I think everyone
should have the right to choose, or at least impact, the degree of
suffering they are able to endure. What you might see as a reasonable
trade-off might seem unbearable for someone else. And while humans
are amazing in their ability to adapt and cope, if death is really the
inevitable outcome, I say your niece gets a big vote. But I’d agree she
should not get the only one. If her parents and the doctor agree on
one course of treatment, they should try to convince her it’s worth a
try first, and reserve a different choice for round two. Your job,
regardless of the choice, should be to support whatever they decide to
do, and be loving and gracious regardless of how the process plays
out, short run or long. My empathy to you all.