Mortality and Death and Other Morbid Stuff People Never Want To Talk About

People really HATE talking about it. It's like death is just something that happens to OTHER PEOPLE and we'll deal with it when we have to, maybe. But when I mention the real possibility that I might not make it to my next century, nobody listens. All I ever get back is "You're a fighter, it'll be ok" or"Let's not talk about this now..." WTF? Everybody spouted off interminably when I was pregnant. I suppose the miracle of new life supplants the miracle of making room for that new life.  Even the death industry people speak in hushed tones, as if showing any kind of emotion may validate the fact that your loved one is actually, for-real, umm, dead. Or maybe they're just trained to expect mourners to act lively and they are to be the counterweight.  So I'm going to write about it just because I can. Don't read this if you choose not to, that's no longer my problem

I'm facing a good chance that I have breast cancer yet AGAIN. And this time it looks to be very aggressive.  I am waiting on a definitive answer from the biopsies they took on Wednesday, and of course during these long weekend days I've been doing probably way too much thinking.  Trying to make decisions about mastectomies, reconstruction, how big do I want my new boobs to be, how much pain will I have to experience, etc, etc, etc. But I'm also considering that the cancer may have spread. After all, I have lost a ton of weight and my Dr's have had no idea what was causing this. So of course I also go to the "fatal place".  What will I do then? 

I have always believed that every person deserves death with dignity. Ever since I saw my grandfather writhing with pain in the hospital from stomach cancer, shouting out to my dad for help, drugged out of his mind, hooked up to machines in a room that looked like the inside of the space shuttle. I was 13 then and I chose to stay in the waiting room for subsequent visits. My poor mother died alone in a hospital room as well, even though she had paid for home health care insurance. I suppose there is no way to truly guarantee that the dignified option will happen, but I sure as damn well don't ever want to be a permanent guest in a nursing home. Been there, done that, 7 days after I broke my hip. Interestingly, every employee I spoke to said that they had "plans other than being stuck there"...

I watched a documentary about a guy who had Lou Gehrig's disease and decided to go to Sweden to have a Dr assisted suicide rather than be a burden on his family as he declined. It was sad, but also rather liberating to watch. This gentleman made his own decision about his life and his death. How cool is that? And his wife honored his wishes all the way. This is a missive to all who say they love me as to what my wishes are. Please pay attention. I'm dead serious.

So if I do have inoperable cancer or treatment (chemo) is only gonna give me like 6 more months or something else just as useless,  I'll take a miss on that, thanks. My heart's desire is to travel. I will do as much as I can. I am so gone. Don't worry, I'll keep taking pictures with my phone camera and posting the best to Facebook. I'm not going to drop off the face of the planet. If anything, I will become more engaged, on a global level. It's going to be so cool.

When I get to the point where I simply cannot go any further, I'm STAYING HOME. Bring in hospice to keep me comfy, but don't drug me to oblivion. There are still snarky things to say and politics to follow.

And after...please cremate me. I know, being Jewish, I should have a plot all picked out and paid for. Let's get this straight. I HATE Hillside Memorial Park. Almost my entire family is buried there. The place gives me only crap memories. I don't give a rip that Al Jolson has a huge palatial fountain. Physical space is for the living, not my rotting carcass.  I have much more twisted plans for my disposal, Read on.

On the "Celebration of Life"...it's the new revamped funeral. Can we take a miss on that, too? You know how I hate trendy stuff. Just have a party. Keep it cheap. BYOB. Play my IPod on shuffle for music. I have only one request...please play "Funeral For A Friend" by Elton. If I can, I'll do some fairy magic for you all. That will be way cool. Eat, drink and be merry. And only dress in black if you usually do anyway.

Ash disposal (here comes the twisted part) Heheheheh. So those of you who really know me know that I love, love, love SNOW. So here's the deal. I could have made this really hard and forced you to watch the weather and check snow levels all winter like I do, but I realise you probably have more important things to do. Soooo.....Under NO CIRCUMSTANCES will my ashes box be left in the closet.( I will haunt the hell outta you if that happens.) You will drive up to Lake Tahoe, in the winter following my death, hopefully on a snowy day (there's at least gotta be snow on the ground) and scatter the ashes anywhere around the lake where you think you won't get caught disposing human remains. Easy. Don't save any ashes. And try not to pull a John Goodman, either, but know if you do I'm gonna laugh at you. So watch the wind.

So now I've written about the stuff NOBODY ever wants to talk about with me. Deal.