Learning To Die

Life Lessons From “Being Mortal”

TW: This post contains multiple thoughts on death. Discretion advised.

We’ve forgotten how to die.

In 1945, most deaths happened at home. In 1980, only 17% did. Around 100,000 years ago, we died before we hit 30. In the last 200 years, this has steadily crept up. In the last few decades, we live beyond 80. In this context, dying at a ripe, old age is unnatural.

Lifespans seem to be uncorrelated to genetics. Identical twins typically die 15 years apart. Genetic influence from parents on lifespans tops out at a paltry 3%. To put this in context, genetics play a 90% role in your height.

We live longer and don’t die of what we used to before.

In the US, 5% of patients who are in the final year of their lives make up 25% of all Medicare spending.

But what are those final wisps of life like? What are the psychological impacts of dying on a sterile, isolated, monitored hospital bed after living a full, cherished life?

We contemplate birth, life and death. But few of us talk or think about the insufferable dilapidation that occurs before the end. Raging against the dying of the light is courageous. But what are the costs of this rage?

Gawande’s soulful, melancholic dissection of how we die today is unputdownable. It asks uncomfortable questions about our mortality. It unflinchingly showcases heart-breaking case studies of cancer survivors, lonely spouses and unwanted parents.

It shows how fleeting life can be, how agonizing the final stages are, how the retailization of modern medicine has got us here and how sometimes, letting go is the best option.

In documenting how we die, Gawande shows us how we ought to live.

We haven’t spared hospices, old-age homes and hospitals from the tyranny of metrics. We measure patient safety, turnover times and death rates. But still can’t measure the quality of our lives in the final stages.

In the end, we all want to avoid pain and suffering. To strengthen relationships with family and friends. To be mentally aware and independent, not a burden. To have a sense of achievement. To be surrounded by our loved ones.

We want to be human, not a statistic.

Gawande poignantly shows us how we have utterly failed.

If you liked this, you’d love these too: