Modern medicine makes attaining immortality seem almost possible. Joseph Nowinski argues that confronting our real mortality is actually far more comforting.
In his book Staring at the Sun, 76-year-old psychiatrist, Stanford professor emeritus, and best-selling author Dr. Irvin Yalom writes about the fear of death—a fear, he argues, that haunts so many people today. Yalom goes so far as to suggest that this fear actually accounts for many of today’s most common emotional illnesses such as anxiety and depression because it lurks in the background of our consciousness. The “cure” for this, he suggests, lies in trying as much as possible to live a life that is free of regrets.
After all, the idea of death deprives us of the notion that we have infinite time to change directions, to pursue a life of fulfillment. Surely Dr. Yalom has followed his own prescription to the best of his ability, writing books that have been a source of inspiration to fellow therapists as well as the general public. Yet in reading this book I found myself wondering: Is this “death terror” that Yalom speaks of limited to our fear that we have not pursued the life we would have wanted to pursue?
It has been said that our society suffers from a phobia when it comes to aging—that we are obsessed with staying young. If you were to measure this by the amount of money we collectively spend on cosmetic surgeries and various potions that claim to make our wrinkles disappear, maintain our vitality, and generally make us look young, you’d have to admit that there is some truth behind that claim.
However, another fact is that we find ourselves living in times when medical technology is quickly transforming death and dying. It is doing so by virtue of an increasing array of treatments that can identify, arrest, control, and even cure illnesses that not so long ago were clearly fatal. Surrounded by this kind of life-extending, death-delaying technology, is it really surprising that we would start to entertain the idea—unconsciously if not consciously—that we might actually live forever?
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Our fear of facing mortality is perhaps most starkly revealed in the experiences of those who find themselves confronted with advanced or recurrent cancer. Here is the experience reported by a man who, following several years of remission from colon cancer, had a routine scan, only to learn that the cancer had recurred in a virulent form:
It took me several months to connect in my head what my oncologist had told me: that I had stage 4 cancer! I was in shock. At the time I had supposedly been cancer-free for 6 years. For two years I’d helped run a support group for the newly diagnosed. When I disclosed my diagnosis to this organization, I was told that they do not allow stage 4 patients to run support groups, as it would cause fear among the other “survivors.” It was like my status had suddenly changed, from “survivor” to “casualty.”
Of course we want those who are diagnosed early and who have good prognoses to feel optimistic. After all, there is evidence that depression—and one of its components, hopelessness—has detrimental effects on the immune system. At the same time there is a danger in denying mortality.
Despite the fact that the percentage of Americans who are confronting old age continues to grow, fewer and fewer of these men and women appear to be taking steps to recognize their mortality and take control of how they would like their lives to end. Evidence of this is to be found in the alarming number of people who spend their final months, weeks, and days warehoused in hospital wards and nursing homes, instead of at home or in hospice settings. That is the danger of denying mortality.
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While we cannot in the end avoid it, we can in fact take steps that put us in control of how our last months, weeks, and days will be spent. One of the most dramatic and poignant examples of this kind of taking control can be found in Helen Nearing’s memoir, Loving and Leaving the Good Life, in which she describes her husband’s detailed instructions for how his death, at the age of 100, as well as his funeral, should proceed. Scott Nearing was a man who not only accepted his own mortality, but who planned for it so that death would proceed exactly as he wanted it to proceed. In a word, he took control of his life—even after his death. His plans for his own funeral include the following:
- Unless the law requires, I direct that no undertaker, mortician, or other professional manipulator of corpses be consulted, be called in, or participate in any way in the disposal of my body.
- I direct that as soon as convenient after my death my friends place my body in a plain wooden box made of spruce or pine boards; the body to be dressed in working clothes, and to be laid upon my sleeping bag. There is to be nor ornament or decoration of any kind in or on the box.
Unlike Scott Nearing, too many people today seem to balk at facing mortality. In the course of interviewing people for our book, Saying Goodbye: How Families Can Find Renewal through Loss, Dr. Barbara Okun and I learned that many families found themselves cast adrift and left to confront many loose ends because their loved ones had failed to face mortality and do basic things such as:
- Make a will.
- Designate medical powers of attorney.
- Write down their wishes with respect to whether they would want doctors to use heroic measures to keep them alive if they faced imminent death.
- Make clear to loved ones and doctors whether they would prefer in-home versus hospital care as they near death, as well as what kind of treatments they would (and would not) want.
- Make plans for their final parting and funeral—in other words, for how they would like to “say goodbye”: when, to whom, and how.
Fortunately, the Internet is emerging as a social network that can be turned to for information and support for all of us as we age—or at least for those who are willing to confront our own mortality and who wish to take some control of how we end our lives.
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Facing mortality does not mean that we should simply sit back and wait to die. Nor does it mean that, in the event we find ourselves faced with a terminal or potentially terminal diagnosis, we should not marshal resources and work with our doctors to contain or cure it to the best of our ability. On the other hand it does mean that we should not indulge in fantasies of immortality.
Should readers think that accepting our own mortality and planning for it will be a depressing experience, for the vast majority of people Barbara and I have spoken with the opposite appears to be true: it leads to a certain peace of mind. It is, in other words, more comforting than frightening. Also, facing mortality does not mean that we cannot make changes in our lives, for as Dr. Yalom correctly points out, so long as we are alive we have an opportunity to assess the paths we are on—and to make course corrections.
Joseph Nowinski, PhD is the co-author of Saying Goodbye: How Families Can Find Renewal Through Loss
and the Supervising Psychologist at UConn Health Center. He is a regular featured blogger for the Huffington Post. For more about Saying Goodbye and Dr. Nowinski, visit www.NewGrief.com, which also includes links and resources for confronting mortality.
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photo by Anngav on Flickr
Hopefully My Last Song (.com) can be one of the social networks and sources of advice now found on the internet. The Lifebox within My Last Song is a storage area for digital memories so that future generations can see inside the personalised time capsule. It is also where funeral wishes, copy of the will and important information can be accessed by selected loved ones when necessary. It also contains a template for a personalised death plan to encourage the discussion of every aspect of the end of life between the patient, their loved ones and their advisers so that… Read more »