Don't read this depressing religion-classy thing
I just watched Philadelphia
Tuesday July 1, 2003
Posted by: ridgecliff (1:19:37 AM EDT)
Have you seen this movie? 1983, I think...starring Tom Hanks. If you haven't, Hanks plays a successful lawyer in a top-notch firm. Once the firm realizes he's gay and subsequently has AIDS, he is fired. He goes to court because this is obviously discrimination. However, being the early 80s, there's mass opposition. Of course, he dies in the end. And no this doesn't give anything away. Because we all die in the end.
So anyway, when Hanks is in the hospital, seriously ill and halfway alive, hooked up to mass machinery, it reminded me of a few months ago with my dad...and also reminded me about how I'd wanted to volunteer at Hospice or something along those lines. I started thinking about what I would say if the Hospice people asked me to write something detailing my interest in working with such terribly sick terminal patients. And I mulled this over while finishing the film and I came up with this stuff-- completely UNHEWN as all hell, keep in mind:
In life, fear interferes in our personal experiences. We avoid certain situations or activities because we fear, among other things, consequences, loss, difficulty, pain, and death. This fear of death is reflected to a grand scale in our American society, which consistently shrouds death in an impermeable mystique and walls off the inevitable out of unsease.
It has been said that "In the midst of life we are in death" and this holds true, regardless of our fears and avoidance of our end. However much our society chooses to ignore this fact, death is (cliche alert) a part of life inasmuch as birth. It is certain for all living things.
Some people die in tragic accidents or crimes, others, at their own hands. Millions die per year from diseases and malignancies such as heart disease, stroke, numerous cancers. Some drift away peacefully in their sleep while others face unrelenting pain until they can fight no more. The avenues leading to death are multifarious. Some of us get to say goodbye to our nearest and dearest while others are stolen from us at the most crushing and innoportune times. None of us can know when our time will come or by which path it shall travel meet us. But by carrying an understanding with us that death is a part of life, we can open our minds to the beautiful reality and abundant gifts we each hold witness to.
One of my favorite books, Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom, chronicles the passing of wisdom from a terminal aged professor and his grown college student. The key piece of insight Prof. Morrie Schwarz offers us is this: "When we learn how to die, we learn how to live." In opening our arms to life, we can open our hearts to those around us and truly live to the fullest until our individual ends.
For some time, I have considered a medical career just as I had journalism prior to committing to a major in that field. I thought of it in the same "Hell no...but why do I keep thinking about it in the back of my head?" way. While the scientific and mathematical tract bends beyond the reach of my personal talents, I have identified a common theme between these two whimsical career goals as essayist and medical practitioner. Each seek to enhance the quality of their reader/patients days, to help them connect with the road to enlightenment, insight, healing, peace.
One format I particularly enjoy is the anecdotal essay, also referred to as a "slice of life" style. In these formats, small and commonly overlooked to-do's are extrapolated to apply to the human experience as a whole. We each only can live so much, experience so much. It is through the connections we forge with others that we can see a broad spectrum of wisdom and experience.
A successful doctor connects with his patients and sympathizes with their aches and pains, their fears and concerns as he guides them to health. A successful writer connects with her readers in a personable and intimate way, acknowledges their aptitudes and their questions, fosters a friendly dynamic as she leads them through a story, a moment, a revelation.
~
Anyway on a seirously completely unrelated note that i've always wondered about, does anyone else's tonsils really start to hurt when they hold back their crying?
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