Michele · seizures

Selfish to the End

Sometimes watching a television show, or reading a certain book will start me on a train of thought I never imagined taking. I’ve spent the last few weeks watching the HBO series ‘Six Feet Under‘ and it has me thinking about death. Big surprise that a series revolving around a funeral home would take me there, huh?

I’m not having dark, goth thoughts, or seeing dead people like some Haley Joel Osmet wannabe. I’m not wondering about what it feels like to be dead, although I used to, once upon a time. Occasionally, the show has sparked a severe pang of regret, a wallop of a reminder of how much I miss those I’ve lost, and how much it still hurts. Mostly, what it has made me think about is planning. We never really know what is going to happen in life, and there are things that should be on paper.

For years I had what is known in Oregon and Washington as a ‘Advance Directive’ filled out, stating what I wanted done in case of a medical emergency, and who I wanted to make those decisions for me. My sister was my designated person, since she knew my wishes, and can keep a calm head. After Steven and I got engaged, I changed that paperwork, naming him. He was irate to read that I had a DNR order in case or a severe trauma. The idea of being kept alive by machines is totally appalling to me, simply abhorrent. I know now that if something had happened to me while his name was on that paperwork, he’d have been fine with keeping me all Sunny Von Bulowed, if only so he could play the martyr.  Needless to say, his name is no longer on my papers.

I realize it is a bit grim to be thinking these kind of thoughts on a warm Spring evening, yet my mind goes back to the number of times I have awakened in an ambulance or hospital bed, and I can’t help but wonder. What is going to happen if I have a seizure some day and don’t wake up? I do not want things to be any more difficult for my loved ones than they need to be, and more than anything, I want things done MY WAY! Really, what is the point of a memorial service if it isn’t done the way I want it? Seriously. I would be so pissed off if I looked down from Heaven and realized that they were playing “The Wind Beneath My Wings” at my service! Or if someone had the nerve to bury me in uncomfortable clothes! I swear, I refuse to go to my eternal rest wearing pantyhose and heels!

Yeah, that’s me. Selfish to the end.