Death as a motivator

My friend had lost her father. I couldn’t help but break down on the phone: I felt her suffering. This was in April. It was after several years of treatment with cancer. One of my patients had died earlier that week. He was a man who had cancer with little support. He said that after he was diagnosed with cancer his friends and family did not really check in on him. Maybe they had their own things to contend with. Before the pandemic he came in quite a lot and was pre-occupied with ‘over-burdening’ us with his concerns about his health. For me I saw him for the kind person it was — not a burden in the slightest.

Photo by Tom Pumford on Unsplash

As a medical professional it is easy to become very ‘professional’ and shut the door to the human inside. During the pandemic, like many others I felt our emotions heightened, almost on panic mode. I felt a sense of the world falling apart. As a doctor I have had the privilege of helping bring new life into the world but also treated people who died in our care despite our best efforts. The most emotive moments for me were when a man in his 30’s was admitted to hospital, but was given weeks to live with a diagnosis of metastatic cancer, leaving his wife and child behind. Or maybe when an elderly man was trying to get his practically unconscious sister to wake up but this was not possible due to the severity of her stroke: there was nothing we could do. It was hard to stay ‘professional’ in those situations.

Over the years I have lost relatives and friends: some through illness, suicide and some all of sudden without any clear reason. But it was only when I saw someone I deeply cared about become sick and needed urgent medical attention. Only then it dawned on me that we all do not have much time in this life. Why did it take so long for me to really understand? This I do not know. Perhaps it was the desensitisation of medicine to death itself. Conversations about why death exists in life, given that it causes so much suffering, reside firmly under philosophy and spirituality. But perhaps it can re-frame what we do in our life and how to face our ultimate fate:

1. Death of loved ones causes immense suffering but we cannot truly appreciate happiness without experiencing pain.

“Should you shield the canyons from the windstorms you would never see the true beauty of their carvings.” Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Without trivialising matters of life and death, when you taste something sweet how can you tell? Is it your past experience or maybe even a reference point perhaps? Only through understanding what is bitter can we really truly understand what is sweet. The pain of losing a loved one cannot be understated: the hole they leave even long after they have left us truly can be overwhelming. When we look back we must look at the positive experiences that we shared with our loved ones against the pain we face with our loss.

Iona Heath presents an interesting viewpoint (34 minute watch) about the importance of death in society:

Iona Heath‘s opening address at the symposium of MORTALITY: Death and the Imagination on 5th July 2013 at the Holden Gallery in Manchester

2. Why did those that died leave us? Are those of us that remain alive here for a greater purpose?

“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” Viktor Frankl

I recount Viktor Frankl’s account in “Man’s Search for Meaning” who tries to understand why he survived from a concentration camp during the Holocaust but his family did not. What kind of life could he have alone? What was the meaning? At the end of the Second World War Frankl was in his 30’s, but died aged 92. We simply cannot choose the circumstances of life but perhaps in the huge adversity we can choose how we react to these circumstances. Sometimes it’s truly painful to face a life without those that have left us. Nothing and no one person can replace this person. But we must look ahead to what is coming otherwise life will happen to us passively. It’s surely what they would have wanted.

Sometimes when facing bereavement, the light at the end of the tunnel seems distant. Photo by Yohei Shimomae on Unsplash

3. Life is so very short.

“You don’t take anything with you when you die. All you take is your legacy of what good have you done in the world.” Devi Sridhar

What is our purpose in life? What should we do? These are not easy questions for anyone to face. They come easy to some but are much more difficult to others. They require looking inwards, being uncomfortable with the darkest corners of ourselves and embracing ourselves fully. We should see that life is short and for those of us with the opportunity to embrace a purpose in our life. It is not a chance afforded to all in this world. Steve Jobs, the co-founder of Apple, talked about our purpose and the brevity of life in his speech (15 minute watch) to Stanford University.

Perhaps it is the brevity of life that cannot be emphasised enough which can speed up our decision making with what to do with our time. The legend of Alexander the Great’s last 3 wishes is something to make us stop and think. Alexander on his deathbed, is said to have requested:

1. Only my doctors must carry my coffin when I die
2. My wealth must be placed on the way to my grave
3. My hands must be dangling from my coffin

The generals confused at these wishes asked why to which Alexander replied, I want everyone to know:

1. That even in the face of death, even the best doctors are powerless
2. None of wealth I have earned can come with me
3. I will leave this world in the same way I entered: empty handed

The Gift of Life: Organ Donation

I cannot talk about death without mentioning the gift of life. The gift of life is sometimes cut short but advances in medicine mean that we have a chance to improve the lives of others long after we are dead. In the UK, the laws around organ donation are changing. If your religious and spiritual beliefs permit it, please consider the donating your organs. I’ve joined the register, have you?