I’ve been on somewhat of a hiatus from writing lately since starting medical school, but the topics of death and dying have been coming up in classes. November is also the month in the Catholic tradition when we remember the souls of the dearly departed so I’ve been reminded about some stories.
When news of my grandfather’s passing reached the state-side clan, it clearly upset my father. This was such a long time when I was a kid but I vividly remember my dad’s frustrated face as he received details from relatives over a long distance call. Lolo probably died from heat exhaustion while sleeping on the couch during the sweaty Manila night. My father, a man who taught both me the value of frugality and enjoying life, was clearly upset that his father was too stubborn and cheap to buy an aircon (that’s AC or air-conditioner in American English). That fact only strengthened my dad’s lessons about not putting a value on health.
Several days later, my tito (my dad’s brother) faxed us a copy of Lolo’s death certificate, which read, “Cause of death: homicide.” We were mortified. Dad couldn’t recall if Lolo had enemies and worried about Lola’s safety. Why was this essential detail left out? He quickly called Manila back:
Dad: What is this? Why didn’t you tell me that Dad was murdered?!
Tito: What are you talking about? He died in his sleep peacefully.
Dad: Then why does the death certificate say homicide?
Tito: Kase namatay siya sa bahay (becase he died at home).
Only in my familiy would death cause such a confusion over vocabulary, but more generally it reflects a sentiment that all families have. The manner of a loved one’s passing makes a HUGE difference. I don’t mean to be morbid, but I think that by retelling these stories, I hope that it will get a healthy discussion about death and terminal illness. Research has consistently shown that a majority of people in this country do not die in the manner they wish – painless, around family, and at home. Although there’s little we can do about the cause of death or when it happens, there is a lot that we can do about how patients and their family experience the inevitable in a dignified manner. What’s worse is that some patients may be receiving better care than others – that is, some people are asked what their preferences are while some aren’t. Although Lolo passed away so suddenly and in the comfort of his home, it sometimes eats me inside that I will never really know if he had such a conversation with someone, if his last moments were truly peaceful, or if his last wishes were observed.
Reast in peace, Lolo.
loved this blog.