For all the mistakes I’ve made in my life, at least I was never found unconscious in a brothel.
Well, it is nice to have high standards.
All joking aside, she's in a terrible position now. Advance Directive or no, the decision still comes down to her alone. No matter what she decides she'll second guess herself for the rest of her life, going through the might-have-beens and should-have-dones over and over. It's a purely personal kind of pain. I hope she's getting end of life counseling.
You know this all started for her with That Call. The one that comes at 4:30 in the morning and you roll out of bed and even though you're still asleep you just know it's not going to be good and the voice on the end is quavering giving you the bad news and asking you what to do and it only takes a minute and you're left standing stupidly, dazed, still not awake and not wondering yet if the snap decision you've just made is the right one (that will come later), you're just grabbing clothes up and rushing to the hospital and not even comprehending yet that you're just not going to get there in time.
Fortunately, when my dad decided to go (or rather the cancer in his liver had decided it had metasticised enough) it was quick. A couple of days of "feeling a bit lousy"; my mum persuading him they should call an ambulance; him perking up a little in A&E; but while being transferred for 'overnight observation' basically the heart finally went splat, and that apparently was that.
We were always more worried about him having yet another stroke (or cluster) that would leave him unable to fend or communicate. He did have a DNR on his records tho.
So, I got that call out of the blue from my mum, at 1.30am. The one I'd been expecting for 30 years. Nothing to be done about it at that point, although it was a pisser that I was supposed to be going over for his 80th birthday party in 11 days' time. Close but no cigar.
At least when he finally went, he went quick. So, long story short, as for me? Being stuck in a coma, or persistent vegetative state, fuck no! Get me onto the next ride/beer volcanoes/sweet emptiness of the ever-expanding universe asap, please!
Also, go Lynx! http://espn.go.com/wnba/story/_/id/13882933/wnba-…
Lynx win! Call it a Dynasty! http://www.startribune.com/dynasty-lynx-win-wnba-…
Wait. Vegas……….Hillary……something…….gimme a minute………
Was Hillary involved in this too while she was there? http://crooksandliars.com/2015/10/sovereign-citiz…
Vegasgazi!
WHYY WONT THE LAMewsteE< MEEDAE RPeoert THIs!1111111111111
Things go better with Coke.
<img src="http://www.benzworld.org/forums/attachments/off-topic/124845d1177042379-things-go-better-coke-raimundo-waldez-brazil-coca-snort.jpg" width="400">
For all the mistakes I’ve made in my life, at least I was never found unconscious in a brothel.
Well, it is nice to have high standards.
All joking aside, she's in a terrible position now. Advance Directive or no, the decision still comes down to her alone. No matter what she decides she'll second guess herself for the rest of her life, going through the might-have-beens and should-have-dones over and over. It's a purely personal kind of pain. I hope she's getting end of life counseling.
You know this all started for her with That Call. The one that comes at 4:30 in the morning and you roll out of bed and even though you're still asleep you just know it's not going to be good and the voice on the end is quavering giving you the bad news and asking you what to do and it only takes a minute and you're left standing stupidly, dazed, still not awake and not wondering yet if the snap decision you've just made is the right one (that will come later), you're just grabbing clothes up and rushing to the hospital and not even comprehending yet that you're just not going to get there in time.
Yeah, it's bad all right.
Fortunately, when my dad decided to go (or rather the cancer in his liver had decided it had metasticised enough) it was quick. A couple of days of "feeling a bit lousy"; my mum persuading him they should call an ambulance; him perking up a little in A&E; but while being transferred for 'overnight observation' basically the heart finally went splat, and that apparently was that.
Close but no cigar.
We were always more worried about him having yet another stroke (or cluster) that would leave him unable to fend or communicate. He did have a DNR on his records tho.
So, I got that call out of the blue from my mum, at 1.30am. The one I'd been expecting for 30 years. Nothing to be done about it at that point, although it was a pisser that I was supposed to be going over for his 80th birthday party in 11 days' time.
At least when he finally went, he went quick. So, long story short, as for me? Being stuck in a coma, or persistent vegetative state, fuck no! Get me onto the next ride/beer volcanoes/sweet emptiness of the ever-expanding universe asap, please!
… yet.
Should have written, "I will NEVER be found…"
You can't be too careful:
<img src="http://rlv.zcache.co.nz/if_lost_and_or_drunk_please_return_to_tshirt-rd2183fd05cd94c5bbd5e66e934adc96b_8nhmm_324.jpg">
… pation.