Today is my son's first day of school. This post is NOT about that.
Well, it is kinda. See, I walked him to school, and there were all these parents there, snapping pictures, wiping tears. And I was thinking, "I cannot wait to get home. I wonder what I can eat with the Boy's grilled cheese sandwich crusts." I then thought, "Wow,I am a bad mommy. I'm not posting my son's first day of school pics to Faceborg. Of course, now I am an OLD mommy."
Yesterday was my birthday. I am 37 now. The thirties have been awesome, and kinda hip. Hitting 35 was cool, and 36 was grown-up. But 37 is close to 40, which is close to death! Tee hee!
I am going to die. Because people do die. But it is getting harder, apparently. My husband shared a news post, about this guy who figured out how to oxygenate blood, so when your heart stops, you can live longer without brain damage. It depressed me. We already live so fucking long. TOO fucking long. And why does a 86 year old person deserve a new kidney or heart? Sorry, but really? Why can we not listen to the signals our bodies give us?
Heart: Huh.
Grandma: What?!?
Heart: I am really not working so well. And...
Grandma: WHAT?!?
Heart: I know this is hard to take, but your arteries are kinda clogged, and your lungs are so inflamed from forty years of smoking that they aren't sending enough oxygen anyway.
Grandma: I don't understand...
Heart: And really, the extra fifty pounds you've been carrying since the 80s are kinda making it worse.
Grandma: Okay, I can't hear what you are saying. I keep losing my hearing aid, because I can't find them unless I wear those ugly glasses the doctor gave me.
Heart: JUST DIE ALREADY!
Grandma: You want me to go where?
I am not advocating the execution of the elderly. Trust me. I just lost my last grandparent this summer, and I was depressed for weeks. (Hence the no new blog entries.) I remember her telling fascinating stories, and braiding my hair when I was younger. She was a nurse for decades, and raised four kids. She created quilts, and she introduced me to naughty literature. But she was in her nineties, and they decided to do shoulder surgery, even though she kept talking about how much she missed Grandfather and didn't understand why she wasn't with him yet, and she wouldn't eat and was generally miserable. She didn't want to improve her quality of life...she wanted her long full life to end.
So, how do you make sure you won't live forever? A Do Not Rescusitate Order? My husband's grandmother had DNR paperwork, advanced medical directives, the works... and THEY GAVE HER A FUCKING PACEMAKER ANYWAY. I joke about getting DNR tattooed on my left breast, although I've been informed that this is not legally binding.
What does a person have to do to DIE a natural death? You aren't allowed to die when your body is clearly giving up. You aren't supposed to commit suicide. You cannot get someone to assist you in dying. And you cannot do a long term, subtle cyanide poisoning anymore (Waldorf Salad, anyone?), because there is even a KIT now, and then they cure you, and you have to start all over again.
So, we live long lives despite the terrible abuse we heap upon our bodies: eating McDonald's, smoking cigarettes, consuming vast quantities of high fructose corn syrup, breathing smog, watching over twenty hours of television a week, and never exercising.
We deserve to be able to die, and we certainly deserve to die. Maybe medical care should be saved for those to prove they really deserve it. Smoke? No healthcare for you! Addicted to McDonald's? Nothing for you.
Want to live forever? Not gonna happen. If you want to live longer, take care of your body, and teach your kids how to take care of their bodies. Eat fresh foods! Don't smoke! Exercise! Don't just assume you'll be saved by a fucking medical community that cannot figure out the difference between what you CAN do versus what you SHOULD do.
Is my son's first day of school important? No fucking way. Whether he becomes a life-long learner IS. And I hope he learns that he ought to throw mommy from a window rather than sign the paperwork for her to get a heart transplant when she is 98. If he learns that lesson, then I'll be happy.
Happy thoughts. And now for some Queen... Who Wants to Live Forever? (sorry about the ad)
