I never felt I was any different from other people throughout my life. I went through marriage, having children. Then I served four years in the Women’s Army Corps, and after my discharge I worked at various jobs, including writing for a newspaper and writing publicity for local companies. When I was diagnosed with emphysema/COPD in my later years, my life took a different turn and in a short time it took too much of my energy to make the rounds of those companies to pick up the latest list of events/companies I needed to cover. I finally retired and as my strength began to wane, without my knowledge, I became one of the throwaway people.
What does that term mean? Simply put, it’s this; when you are elderly, ill and have little time left to live, you are no longer needed or necessary in a productive society. At that point, doctors can no longer heal you so they simply want you to go away. They can no longer treat you successfully and they tell you your medicines no longer do you any good. They try to discourage you from taking them. Their recommendation is that you enter a hospice where you can die “peacefully” with the help of morphine, so that they don’t have to admit their inability to heal you. Surely, that must be hard for them to deal with, but it’s also hard for the patient to face.
In April of 2018, on my 79th birthday in the emergency room of a local hospital, a doctor informed me I have 6 months to one year to live. The limit of my life being told to me in that way was something I never even considered. I knew I had less stamina than before and that I couldn’t turn out the work I used to do, but couldn’t believe someone had put it into cold, hard words….”6 months to a year!” Should I do what they recommend and just give up, go to a hospice and allow the morphine to take over my remaining days?
This is me on either April 6th or 7th, 2018, in Sunrise Hospital Emergency Room, on the Bi-Pap machine. It blows air into your lungs forcefully when you can no longer manage to breathe on your own. You can see I’m exhausted, but I’m stubborn, I continued to fight and refused to give up.
Doctors are educated in medicine so they’re supposed to know, but I find myself thinking, “I’m not ready yet!” I said it when I was on the Bi-Pap, when everyone thought I wouldn’t make it, I said it when I hadn’t the strength to get out of bed for days, I said it when I cried and my daughters held me and told me to fight to live. I fought with all my might to survive and I’m here and it’s been 3 months since the fateful day I heard those words…”6 months to a year to live.” I’m not ready yet, and I believe it’s not up to the doctors, but to a higher power, as to when I expire.
As for the title of Throwaway People, I believe that doctors know when they can do no more for a patient. I believe that once they realize this, they also realize their own limit to their abilities. It’s brought home to them that they are not God. Because their purpose in life since becoming a doctor is to heal, they don’t like being reminded frequently with the presence of a patient who is on her/his way out of the world. Doctors often come to believe that they can perform miracles, and many times they do, but once they realize they are only human after all, I think it’s hard for them to deal with. This is why we become Throwaway People. We are consigned to the helpless and hopeless. But I will keep fighting to live as best I can until the day I die, and if I have my way, God willing, that will be YEARS from now. I’m going to do my best NOT to be a Throwaway Person!
Oh, dear friend, now I know why you have been so strongly on my mind and heart lately. Do not go gently into that dark night. Keep fighting. Those of us who have been so lifted by your mighty and generous spirit celebrate all that you are. Please know that you are loved.
Diana, my dear friend, you just brought tears to my eyes with this gracious comment. Yes, I will persevere as long as my spirit allows and once that no longer abides with me, I will hope for a reunion with those I love who have gone before. Thank you so much, you are also loved by me and so many others every day, for your kind and wondrous soul. Please give dear Toby a hug for me. <3
Throwaway People, my ass…ets! Thank Goodness you do not buy into that bull crap, Nancy! My dear friend, I am honored to know and to be loved by a strong woman such as you and my dog Valentino is too! You have been our rock for years, and yes, Lord willing you shall be for many more.
Oh sweet Ruth, so glad you feel that way. I’m not about to give up until the last gasp of air in my lungs will no longer move in and out! Love you my friend, and love Valentino. Bless you both! <3
Mama you are NOT a throw away person. I love you. I work with doctors as you know and they are just people. Not Gods. They make mistakes everyday. You are a fighter— always have been. 💕❤️
My sweet darling daughter, Becky….This is the way we’re made to feel sometimes, but I refuse to be a throwaway person. You are right, I AM a fighter, always have been, always will be until I am no longer able. Love you, Mama <3
Nancy, I very much admire your tenacious attitude! I’ve seen way too many loved ones just succumb to words like the ones you have heard. I agree with you completely, Doctors are often the vessels used to perform miracles, but they are definitely not God. I detest the suggestion that anyone should resign themselves to a hospice with a morphine drip. It may be merciful when someone is in extreme pain, but it has become way too common. You hold on to every day God gives you! You are definitely not a throwaway person!!!
Sylvestermouse, you dear lady! Thank you for the encouragement, the good Lord knows I need it! Yes, it has become way too common as you said, for people just to end their lives with a morphine drip. I’d like to be conscious as long as possible and be able to communicate with my loved ones as long as I can. Thank you again, my friend.
Nancy, you’ve been through so much. My heart goes out to you as you know. It’s brutal to have to suffer like this and it has to be incredibly difficult for your family as well. You’ve struggled, and pulled through so many times that I think there’s a bit of wonder woman in that blood of yours. I’m praying you shock them all and years from now you can update this post with a big neener-neener to the time frame they said to you. About throwaway people; well I absolutely see your point. It’s crossed my mind even now at my age in how people see me. But I’m a firm believer in it’s more important what I think of myself. If I’m comfortable and at peace inside, the rest is noise. But when we’re sick it’s different of course isn’t it. When we’re sick we’re dependent on docs and care givers and that requires a whole new level of strength. No matter what Nancy, you’re not ‘throwaway people’. You’re a woman who loves and who has family who loves her, and you’ve left your imprint on many. Hugs hugs hugs to you my friend.
Barbara, as I was writing this I could almost hear your comment in my mind, along the same lines of this real one. Because you’ve always supported me, you’ve always encouraged me and I thank you for those things. More than that, I thank you for caring about me and for being a friend.
Nancy, you’ve been there for me too and I’m grateful for your advice and guidance over these past many years. Big hug Nancy, a long big hug cause those ones are the best. Xxoo