I am in the enviable position to not be actively dying from an untreatable disease, so obviously haven’t seen things from the other side of this sort of situation.
But to me, that doesn’t sound like a life worth living. Obviously different people will have different thresholds for when to throw in the towel, and I’m glad that we are finding medicines to allow people to make the choices that align with their own drives.
Still, I can’t help but think that this is the sort of life virtually none of us would choose to inflict on our pets, even if cost was no option. We give them a far more graceful exit from this world than we give ourselves, and I think that’s worth considering.
I am truly terrified of death. I wish I wasn’t, but an infinity of nonexistence somehow seems unbearable (though, obviously, it will be trivial to bear in practice). I still hope that when my time comes, I will find the strength to exit gracefully if my life ever gets to the point where each day is filled with pain and discomfort, and where I can’t actually take part in any of the things I enjoy about life.
I hope that this is only a temporary treatment for this guy to get the tumor to a point where it can be operated on or treated with other therapies. Because his life sounds like a living hell and that breaks my heart.
Well, I am in the situation you are so afraid of. Chemo, radiation and other treatments suck big time, let alone the effects of the cancer itself.
BUT ... this is not a binary situation, where suddenly life becomes unbearable. There's so much worth living for. And not just the obvious big things in life (kids, family, friends), but also many many small things. Man, that first cup of cappuchino once the effects of chemo wears off alone is almost worth all the puking beforehand :) Or having a nice piece of cheese. Seeing my small herb garden grow. Etc. etc.
The trick is to live a peaceful, content life. Be grateful for what you have. Enjoy your short time on earth.
Sasse is a bad example of the drug. Entire institutions, at least the two I'm working with as a caregiver, have gone through the trials of 6236 without a single case of the rash as bad as his.
Insensitive comment in general. "Throw in the towel" really pissed me off.
> Still, I can’t help but think that this is the sort of life virtually none of us would choose to inflict on our pets, even if cost was no option. We give them a far more graceful exit from this world than we give ourselves, and I think that’s worth considering.
I often think about this, wondering how many of those animals would have chosen death if given the choice, and how often it is simply a way to spare the owner from seeing something that upsets them.
This may sound condescending but: you sound young, not disabled, and extremely sheltered from being exposed to disabled people.
I am in a position to be intimately familiar with illness. I will say that health is a spectrum and the mind is incredibly resilient. You will surprise yourself as you inevitably age how much your mind will adapt to always hurting. There is more to life than body discomfort. This patient sounds like he has his faculties and is making an informed decision to continue living, because his life is worth the discomfort he is going through. I am reminded of a line along the lines of every day you experience, no matter how terrible, is very likely a day that someone else yesterday would have desperately wanted.
There has been recent attention on what treatments oncologists choose for themselves when diagnosed with terminal illnesses—having seen firsthand what happens to quality of life for their patients—and what members of the general population choose.
Doctors tend to choose the treatments that bias quality of life over quantity of life. That’s all I’m getting at here. I personally hope that if it ever comes to it, I will have the strength to choose something like three months of high QoL over one year of grinding daily misery as I have personally seen others do.
Having your skin fail to regenerate, bleeding everywhere, and having skin that looks like you’ve had aqua regia poured over it seems to me like a poor quality of life. It sounded like a life of pain and one in which it would be difficult to do a lot of the things that bring me joy. Perhaps it’s not as bad as it sounds, and this is a poor example of it. I’m not judging this guy for his choices; they’re his to make. And maybe I’ve overestimated the amount of pain he’s in. But from the description above, it sounded awful.
I find both the honesty and tact of your comment a generous gift. After watching the Sasse interview, reading the parent comment and reading your comment, I’m reminded abstractly how much of the emotional and psychological work of reconciling biological mortality is built on personal cognitive context that a mind-body builds over its cycles living in the world. So much about mortality is shared. But so much of the context for interpreting mortality is radically personal.
I mean, he looks uncomfortable, but you would be surprised at how much people can tolerate when there is no alternative. Here is an interview I found [0].
I think he looks better than every 90 year old. But he also mentions that it still is terminal.
[0] https://www.nytimes.com/video/opinion/100000010826256/what-d...