A first-person account from off the beaten track, as told to Anne Ford.
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“Then, when I was 23, my mother was diagnosed with cervical cancer. She was in the hospital, and I went to visit, and my dad told me that the oncologist had given him her prognosis, and it was only months. I was so angry that I destroyed the blinds in the window.
“But my mother died really peacefully and comfortably. My father called hospice to prepare the body. I remember that none of us wanted to go into the family room. But the nurse suggested we all come in because there was a smile on my mother’s face. It ended up being an incredible experience.
“Once I was playing a patient with terminal lung cancer, and one of the residents made the comment that she wanted to have the ‘do not resuscitate’ conversation with me because I was the one in control of my body. That elicited an ‘Are you kidding me?’ moment. I’m dying! How am I in control of my body? So those sorts of moments give them pause: ‘Oh yeah, that’s not the best choice of words.’”
