HW 27 - Visiting an unwell person

As we pulled up to his house, there was an scent of familiarity in the air. We knew what was coming next, he was going to be really excited to see us, but it would turn to tears and us consoling him about how he shouldn't be sad because we were all there. He is 88 years old and he has neuropathy in his right foot. Neuropathy is when the nerves are damaged by disease or by a chronic condition. In his case it stemmed from an infection in his foot that eventually claimed his big toe and the ball of his right foot. He is on constant medication and he knows he is aging fast. So after we passed the usual conversation, we moved back to his outside porch and sat down in the warm sun. He said as he always does "I'm getting old Steph." As he refers to my mother. We always joke about how he is going to see my graduate college and even my first child, but he knows that isn't true. No one lives forever. His house is very neat and well organized. He has enough canned food to last him for another 100 years that he will never eat. His freezer is stocked with home cooked, frozen meals, and his fridge has more junk food then ours does, but no matter how much time has passed, it seems like it is always the same.

He lives like he wants everything to be in perfect order when he dies. It is clear that someone lives there, but it isn't clear if they are actually living. It feels like a museum that has shag carpeting. We ask if he would come to lunch with us. He responds with "i do what i want to do." So we ask if he would please come to lunch with us. He does, and he has a hot dog. When we get back to his house he complains about how he doesn't like to go out because the food upsets his stomach. It hits me, this is a man who is always on some kind of medication, has to watch what he eats, and knows he is old. He is still a respectable man, he is very smart and he can still think and speak for himself, but he can't really hear that well. So i think to myself, if people know what this is like when they get old, why do they bother? I don't think i can deal with living like that for myself.

How does someone come about being like that? Is it a process that you don't really notice until one day it floods you? Or do you see its slow and dark approach? When they do realize, why do they continue to live like that? On my flight back home i think i discovered the answer that i was satisfied with. I think that when you get to that age, you know that you are dying and it is scary. It is like holding on to a ledge and someone telling you to let go, but you don't know what is below you. The only difference is that this is death. I can understand why this man we visited wouldn't want to let go. He likes where he is. I would be willing to compromise on my health and well being to still be alive. To just have one more day and see the people i love because they make it all worth it. He takes his pills every several hours because they are what keep him alive.

Most of the time we just sat around his house and watched TV or talked and joked about past memories. When it came time to leave he stood on his doorstep and with his hands behind his back he would watch us drive off. Both of us weren't sure if we would ever see each other again. It's a feeling you can never describe because you haven't lost anything yet, but you want to freeze time so that one moment will last that much longer, but it wont so you do your absolute best to commit it to memory before you forget it. That is what i think that people who are dying are trying to do. They want to remember the way they had lived and correct any faults they may have committed because regardless of your religious orientation, no one wants to die with a tarnished conscious. The "unwell" person who i visited is no exception, that is why he continues to hang on even though he knows he isn't completely happy. But he knows that even the most unsavory of tasks must be completed.