When my brother was dying of a brain tumor, that was the reason cited by some family members for not visiting.
News flash: We didn’t like seeing him that way anyway. What you really meant was that you were willing to trade his loneliness for your comfort.
Sometimes you just have to put on your big girl panties, slap on something resembling good cheer, and fake it. Were these people he was close to?
I’d rather see my dying family members while they’re still alive than in their coffin.
If someone did that to my loved one, I would get in their face and tell them, “YOU are going to die someday too and I honestly hope it is as horrible as possible for you.”
They are cowards and I find it sickening to let someone you supposedly cared about die alone because seeing them ill makes you uncomfortable.
If they are children, I’d give them a pass. *
Adults (as Annie aptly put it) then you put on your big girl panties.
*Even very young adults I might let it slide. It may have taken me until (early) twenties to get over my own extreme discomfort at something so serious and know it was the right thing to do for my relative/friend.
I am not sure if I explained that very well. Sorry.
Before we get too scorching in here, a family member dying of a brain tumour is hard on them, too. Yes, everyone should suck it up and visit the dying person who needs their company and comfort right now, but some people have a harder time with it than others. You can’t judge other people by what you’re capable of doing. That said, I’m sure there were people who didn’t show up for shallow reasons rather than because it was too difficult and emotional for them - I’m not sure how you could differentiate the two.
Personally, I would not draw any distinction at all. Even if the reason you are staying away is because you find it emotionally painful, it is still remarkably self-centered to be more worried about your feelings than the feelings of the person who is actually dying. If you have any sense of loyalty or compassion, you don’t abandon someone at the worst, hardest time in their life.
I don’t think it’s a question of age. Hospitals creep me out, but if it’s something serious and I can get there, I go. I was 13 when my little sister, then 8 or so, had reconstructive surgery for some bad scarring on her face as a result of an accident she had as a toddler. I went to the hospital with my dad to see her, and even though she was all doped up on pain medication and probably doesn’t even remember me being there, my parents remember. There was a little girl there whom she had befriended, who was there to have a leg amputated due to bone cancer. My mom says no one but her parents visited her. We later found out she died of the cancer, which had metastasized. I wonder how her parents felt and if their other friends and relatives were able to face them later.
My brother refused to visit my mom while she was having weekly chemo sessions because “he doesn’t like hospitals.” Who does? Now my mom’s cancer has returned and since my brother and I now live about 500 miles away from her, we can’t visit her in the hospital. I call her when she has chemo and other times during the week to see how she’s doing. Does he call? No.
I can understand that this is hard for him. It’s hard for me too, but it’s even harder for my mom, especially when one of her children doesn’t make any effort to connect with her while she’s going through this alone. My brother was never one to put others before himself, and unfortunately this is a situation where his self-centeredness and lack of compassion can cause real pain.
It’s just not that simple.
My grandmother died of breast cancer a few years ago. I saw her a mere few hours before she died, and I knew I’d never see her alive again when I went to see her. I walked into the room and she was repeating “Oh, my God”. Never before or since have I ever seen someone in such pain, and I would not wish that pain on my worst enemy. She recognized me, and I had the privilege of saying goodbye to her, for whatever comfort she drew from that. It couldn’t have been much.
She died the next day, not 18 hours later. To this day I will never forget the unspeakable pain she was in. I still have nightmares about it, how I could not save her or ease her pain. What possible comfort could she have drawn from that?
Those of us that have to live on never forget. We carry on with the memories of helplessness. All the technology we have, all the amazing abilities we’ve been given, and we can’t save them from their fate. Is it selfishness to want to be spared from that?
And yet I am conflicted. One of my biggest regrets is that I couldn’t say goodbye to my grandfather because I was too sick to visit him in the hospital. What would I have said to the most intelligent man I ever knew in his last moments? Goodbye? Is that all I could have said to him? After everything he had done in his life he deserved more than that, wouldn’t you say?
There’s no peace to be had either way. It’s emotionally devastating either way, and there’s not a thing you can do about it except carry on with your life and try to honor your ancestors the best that you can. In the end we’re all dead men. It’s what you do while you’re alive that matters.
Yes. It is the essence of selfishness.
It has nothing to do with age. When our father was dying, my mother and I were by the bed, and my brother (53 at the time) stayed in the opposite corner of the room, and would not come closer.
Actually, I had lots of experience being with friends dying of AIDS.
You don’t want to see him like that is not a valid excuse in my book. As others have said before me, of course you don’t want to see him like that. Who the hell does?
Airman Doors, USAF: When my father died it was a rather sudden heart attack and I was the only one in the vicinity. I’m not going to engage in a pissing contest over which is the best way to go, slow and quick both have their advantages and disadvantages, I will acknowledge that your Grandmother’s situation was a bit different from my father’s. While I would like to think that my presence provided him with some comfort I cannot say for certain that he was even aware of me. If he was aware then he had someone who loved him near at hand which I hope would have provided some comfort. Anyway, I’d rather have been there for him than to have been elsewhere despite the mental trauma is caused me.
Damn, Thank you! I just wrote that down. Fucking profound. :rolleyes:
And sometimes being self-centered is necessary for one’s survival. Personally, I have PTSD due to a medical situation and hospitals can be (but are not always) triggering. Being triggered can result in anxiety for a period of several days, panic attacks and insomnia or nightmares for nights in a row. If I’m not feeling capable of making a hospital visit to see someone who’s about to depart this world at a particular time, then I won’t, because I have to keep on living. It sounds harsh, but it’s how it must be.
I can and will do other things for the family. I will visit the dying at home or in a hospice, but hospital visits can only happen on my strongest days. If it’s the “essence of selfishness” to prioritize my health over someone whose days or hours are numbered, so be it.
This is also why I make it a practice to keep in touch with the elderly people and people who are ill who I love, visit often, call and e-mail regularly and so on, so that they don’t need my tearful deathbed goodbye to be assured that I cared for them.
What is your problem?
Airman, you are a very distinctive voice here, and I think I know you well enough to say thjat without a doubt you are among the most problem-oriented people I’ve ever heard of, ever. You see a problem and it is your natural reaction to fix it.
There are some problems which cannot be fixed, because they’re not problems. Nothing is broken, though it might not go on as we wish it. People die. It is a fact, and it will happen, and it will for some fo us be very painful and long.
That does not change that your Grandmother undoubtedly was overjoyed at seeing you. She surely knew she was dying, and she knew she was in a lot of pain. Having you there took all that away, if only for a brief time. People with a reason to endure can always find a means to endure. Pain hurts most when we have nothing and no one to turn to - not for relief, but simply for love. And there is no painkiller so effective as a warm conversation with family.
My Grandmother died recently. I wasn’t there - in fact, I was going to go up and see her hardly a day after she did in fact die. It was very suddent that we learned of it, but she had been ailing a very long time and we didn’t know. She didn’t know. She probably didn’t care. She’d had a long life, filled with a loving husband, wild children, wilder granchildren, and not great-grandchildren. She never complained, and never even seemed to mind. My only regret is that I was waited until Friday when I should have found the means to go Tuesday.*
So don’t worry about what you can and cannot do. That isn’t what’s important. Just do what you need to do, and the rest will take care of itself.
*In my defense, I knew she was in a bad way but not that she was that bad.
I’ll never say this again, but… what smiling bandit said.
Personally, unspeakable pain or not, I’d like to have my nearest and dearest come and see me before I die. Even if they can’t make it stop hurting, they can still remind me that my life meant something, and I was loved.
AD, you may not have eased your grandmother’s physical pain, but I guarantee she was happier after you left than she was before you got there.
Personally, if I’m on my deathbed I hope to God my friends and family will be willing to visit me despite all the trauma that my death will inflict on them. I’m with Spark and the OP.
I’m quite the opposite, if I am on my deathbed I don’t want someone coming to visit me if it s going to cause them incredible distress and even some emotioanl or psychological trauma. Why the fuck should my suffering be expanded into others suffering.
Of course this is not a “Get out of jail free” card, but I wil be dead soon enough and this other person has to live their life.