h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I should tell you about Bertha first because she's already 101 and a half. Longevity is its own form of celebrity, and for the past two years she's had a special party in her honor, and been interviewed by local radio. Until recently she has maintained remarkable physical and mental condition. She and her room mate live next door to me; both of them are very deaf, so when they chat it sounds as if a Monty Python skit is playing out on the other side of the wall. Usually they give up and resort to writing notes.

The day after her 101st, Bertha slipped and fell, in her room. Up to that point she had used a walker, but after the fall she was restricted to a wheelchair outside her room. Most residents are wheelchair-bound, and the therapy department issues them without leg rests so that, if they wish to move, they have to use their lower legs to get around. The benefits of this are obvious, I think, although it looks strange at first, people sitting down but walking from the knees down.

Last week I heard one of the male nurses greet her in the hall, calling out, "Bertha! How ya doin'?" and she answered right back in her archaic Texas drawl, "Ohhh, ah'm doin' everybody ah can!" And her favorite activity is watching entertainment wrestling on the television.

But lately, she has begun to lose track of time. She sleeps a lot of the time now, but can be heard looking out of her room in mid-afternoon, sometimes, inquiring about breakfast. She has started losing items, or failing to see them when they are lying in plain sight. I get the sense that she is receding, as opposed to breaking down. She has a few chronic problems, like high blood pressure, but -- barring trauma -- she appears to be heading for a tidy quiet death.

I was joking with the restorative therapist who does range-of-motion work on my legs the other week, and we had a laugh over the idea of the "Ali McGraw death." You know that movie with Ryan O'Neal, "Love Story." Ali is dying. She is lying in bed with full make-up, thick, lustrous hair, clear eyes and perky boobs. What woman dies like that, unless she was just struck by a car or something? No, the ideal death might be more like the one Bertha is headed for. I don't know whether I would want to live to 102, even if I had my health, but it would be nice to be given the leisure to disengage from the world at my own pace. It's the myth of having your life all neatly wrapped up at Expire Time, with the bucket list completed, the cat litter box cleaned out and the bills paid, and of course that's impossible.

"OK, I'm ready to die now."
"No, wait, I --"

This is a fascinating glimpse into a world people often look away from. I can already tell that your journals are going to be the ones I look out for most eagerly this month.

Deb

I agree - I've already shared the posts with a number of my colleagues, we see this world - but its rare to hear voices.

[Amy P]

F S

A peaceful death in one's sleep, with all your faculties intact would seem like the gold standard of long life.

I've gone too far in my own life to have 'lived fast died young, left a good looking corpse' as part of my epitaph. Thank god for the new generation of geriatric doctors and staff who are specialists in this area.

Mag

reddit

Lanzababy -- a Peaceful death in ones sleep..... No going out in a blaze of glory then, ?

cheers 2legs

[WM]