Death

It's Monday evening. Today, I went to the lab and gave samples of bodily fluids so that the technicians could analyze them and tell my doctor just how far from normal my body is, which is what they routinely do. My body has been out of whack my entire life. My first blood test was at age 18, or maybe 21, and I remember my triglycerides being about 300. Or maybe they were 400. Either number is very high. But they've been higher. I have a lab test where my triglycerides were 462. And I have a test where they were 639. A normal test is less than 150. 

My heart has a-fib (atrial fibrillation). It's an abnormal rhythm that can cause a blood clot in the heart that then travels to the brain and causes a stroke. I take two prescription meds for the a-fib. And yet, I still have a-fib. So why am I taking the two meds? 

My cardio doctor wants me to add another med to the mix. He wants me to take Xarelto, also known as revaroxaban. $800 cash, $500 with insurance. That's for three months. So...$2000 per year, until I die. Of course, the price goes up every year. The problem is, I have other, more fun things I'd like to spend that extra $2000 on doing. So, as is often the case, I'm ignoring my doctor's advice. It's a gamble, of course. But every day I get out of bed is a gamble. I could spend that money on having fun. I could spend it on doing good things. Or I could spend it on extending the number of days that I'm not having fun. And even those extended days aren't guaranteed.

My father had a stroke. It interfered with his hand-eyes coordination. The doctor put him on warfarin, a drug so dangerous that users have to get a blood test every week or two to adjust the amount they're taking. Then he had another stroke, even though he was taking the warfarin daily and getting his blood tested routinely. Then he had a third stroke. He survived all his strokes only to die from lymphoma (specifically: septic shock caused by the treatment for lymphoma). 

I think my mother probably died from a stroke. She was found alive but unconscious and never woke up. She had been in good physical health.

We will all die from something, sometimes when we're least expecting it, and sometimes when we've been waiting for it for months. I read a book in which the author made the claim that death is our final rescuer. When we're trapped in a body that is suffering, that is in great pain, and the doctors can do nothing, death will come to us and end our suffering. When no one can help us, death will help us.

But I know that death is nothing to fear. It's like that old saying, "Death is the best part of living—that's why they save it for last."