Death is looked upon as a loss, but a greater loss is, if you are dead inside while you still live.
As humans, we all come with an expiration date. This is a universal truth, a reality that is determined by an outward force. We have no control over it. While we live, we are somewhat in denial, or we shy away from the word death. This is simply because it is unknown, an unwelcome guest. Many authors, many poets, have given their views on death. Some say it’s a peaceful haven, some say it is an unknown adventure, some say it’s a final destination of tranquility.
Let’s take a moment and think: How are we relating death with life? We live for a certain amount of time and then, we make our final journey. This final journey takes a couple of seconds to occur, but we have an entire lifetime to live.
The question is: Are we living our life to the optimum level? It is said, only if you have built a relationship with death can you understand the true essence of life. You will value your life and accept that your life has a purpose.
As a palliative care expert and also as an anesthesiologist, I have closely watched many patients who accepted death as a normal occurrence in their life. Knowing death is imminent, I have witnessed them openly talk about their death and how it is so natural to them. They have accepted it, saying it's either today or tomorrow, but it will happen.
This experience has given me a new dimension to my very being. My first encounter in this regard as a palliative care expert was with a young 20-year-old girl. She had cancer of the oropharyngeal area. She had been fighting with it when she was preparing for her matric exams. With each fight, she came out a winner until she finally graduated. By that time, she was on the verge of losing her battle.
With time, this disease had almost spread to a state where she was unable to talk. During rounds I would go to her and ask how she felt today? She would not speak, as though she was angry with the whole world and its unknown forces. This happened every day for quite some time and gradually, she started welcoming me with a smile.
The smile eventually turned into fondness and she would anxiously wait for my rounds so that she could see me. Sometimes, if my visit was late, she would inquire with the duty nurses as to when I was coming for the daily rounds. In a short time, we became friends and since she could not speak properly, I encouraged her to write letters to me.
Every morning, a letter would await me, and I would read each and every line with a smile. This became a daily routine. The letters contained frustrations, complaints, and also compliments. Over a period of a month, we started laughing together, sometimes appreciating each other’s clothes. Lastly, she had asked me if I could help her brother get a job.
This was a tall ask. However, I took that small wish as a challenge and asked my younger brother if he required any junior BBA graduate in his office. I gave him the background of her brother and he was kind enough to give him a job. This news created an uproar in the ward and my patient was ecstatic.
She explained in her letter that it was her last wish to see her brother working and with his first salary, she would like to distribute it to everybody. She wrote in her letter that perhaps she got this disease to come across someone like me. I still don’t know and often wonder how spiritually healed she was and how prepared she was to make her final journey. Often she would laugh, giggle, and hold my hand, as though her reason to live was getting over. Finally, with all pain medications, she was discharged to go back to her village.
In the meantime, I too had taken a leave from work to go abroad for seven days. When I got back to work, the nurses informed me that a package was waiting for me from my patient. I was anxious to see what it contained. It was a huge jar of pure honey and a small note, thanking me for being there for her.
I was restless to call her and thank her. After my work, I called her mother and thanked her and inquired how my patient was doing. She softly informed me: “She left us two days back.”
I was not prepared to hear this and went quiet for some time, but the mother consoled me that she lived till the last second before making her final journey. I kept down the phone and was rummaging through my study desk, looking for those letters. I held them close to my chest and felt heavy ... I took a deep breath … What a gift, what a treasure!
While leaving the world, she taught me the lesson to be happy with small needs and also establish a silent and loving relationship with death. That has enabled me to understand life more and live life to the fullest and live it with an attitude, with gratitude.
Why am I talking about death when we all thrive to live life to the fullest? Living life to the optimum varies from person to person. But there is one general rule: We all want to be remembered, want to leave a legacy. So there are little changes that we can make.
We can be less transactional, more transcendental. We must have more empathy, give whenever we can, learn to be kind with words and deeds and, above all, be kind to ourselves. A healthy relationship with death begins with a kind relationship with your own soul.
Dr Zareen Delawar Hussain is MD and CEO, Integro Pharma Ltd. Formerly, senior consultant in anaesthesiology and ICU and palliative care expert.
