Last Call

I know....been spending WAY...too much time in "da clubs" with my band lately.
But I'm talking about a DIFFERENT "last call"....

Tonight, I was talking to a friend who has someone in her life who has been told they have "TERMINAL CANCER".
Yeah....lovely news to get from the Doc...right?
Both she and I have been through this MANY times before. More times than either of us care to mention.
Here's the thing....the doctors that gave him the "terminal" news...no hope, no chance.....have put him on aggressive Chemo.
He's sick ALL the time. He hurts. He's tired. He's sad.

Okay.....so if it's "TERMINAL"......why the Chemo? To do....WHAT, exactly?
Tourtue him for his last days/weeks/months?
Drain his insurance companies wallets?
Prove a point?
Film an episode of "House"....(Google it...I'm too sleepy...)?

As most of you know, My Mom died September 7th, 1998.
She had a "blood cancer", known as CML.
They have a drug called Gleevec that can treat it now...but it wasn't ready then.
Granted, by the time they figured out what was WRONG (It took months!!! No one would take her seriously. All they saw was an over-weight woman with low income and their answer to EVERYTHING was...."lose weight"), it would have been too late anyway.
They gave her three months to live.
That was April 17th, 1998.

Now, even though they told her she had NO CHANCE WHATSOEVER of getting better......they INSISTED on more tests.
Some very painful. Some that made her cry. And get sicker. And hurt....more.

I was not "allowed" to make decisions for her. That was left to my Aunt. Her older sister.(there is a backstory there about 16 pages long....no need to go there now).

The point is....my family felt they "had" to do what the doctors said. It never occured to them that they could say...NO.
NO more.
Stop.
Now.
So my mother's last days were a blur of tests, trips, meds, pain, medical hustle and bustle.
When it was Granpa's turn, he too fely he could NOT say "NO"...but he had his own way.
He'd let them out in the needles, say thank you....and pull them back out. Every, single, time.
No tubes. No needles. No meds. He was 92. He was done. He was ready.
After my Aunt saw all of this unfold...it eventually becamr HER turn.
Now SHE had "TERMINAL CANCER".
No chance, no hope.
She refused all treatment.
The doctors FREAKED!!!!!!
How could she? How dare she? She was going to DIE???
Ummmm...yeah.....isn't that the whole point of "terminal", doc?
You're gonna die....big surprise.
So WHY was it SO horrible that she choose to go out on her OWN terms?
She had no more tests. No more weird meds.
Her last memories were of being in her favorite chair, with her cat on her lap (the same cat that is on MY lap now...shedding on the keyboard...), in HER home.
Her comfort zone. She slipped into a com in that chair. Never woke up. Died the next day.
Most of you also know I am a animal lover. Maknig that choice for their "last call" is a VERY hard thing to do.
It SUCKS!
Even when you KNOW they are ready...it hurts so MUCH to let them go.
But people tell us that's a "kindness".
Letting an animal linger and suffer and struggle and hurt....that's bad.
I AGREE!!!! They deserve better.
But.
If a human, of sound mind, chooses of their OWN FREE WILL to deny "treatment" that will NOT help them at all and only make their "last call" drag on in a horrible way.....they are wrong too?
Whoa...wait a minute.
Seriously?
Why?
Because animals don't pay insurance premiums?
And this "all life is sacred" stuff......
So, if it's sacred.....why let them die a slow painful death when they tell you they are done? They are ready?
If they refuse "treatment" so they can have a FEW days of peace before their "last call".......why is that so wrong?
It just doesn't make sense to me, none of it.
The creatures we "can't" communicate with....we can see in their eyes and their behavior that they are READY. We let them go becasue we LOVE them.
The creatures that "CAN" communicate with us tell us in our OWN language that they are READY.....and we let them suffer some more....beacuse we love them???
WHAT??????
Look, I don't have all the answers.
Cripes...I don't even have all of the QUESTIONS....but....
if ANY of you are around when it's my "last call"....and I tell you I am ready, I am done, I am NOT afraid.....
treat me like you would your most beloved "furry-baby", okay?
You can even bury me in the backyard.