Reading this book was a difficult task. Just because the topic of conversation here is something all of us hate to discuss or even utter. It is not death but something more than that. Something more evil than death itself. It is the culmination of life or sort of the process leading up to death.

It has been 8 months since I lost Daata (my grandfather) and he died after having lived 92 years. However it was the last phase of his life which left quite a mark on me. Having been diagnosed with Spondylitis and slowly with one disease after another he weakened considerably in 2 years. Till then he was independent in the truest sense of the word. Slowly came the falls and then his refusal to accept a wheelchair.
Then further worsening of affairs and his insecurity about being alone or limiting his movement to his room.

That part of my life was one hell of a time.
I had recently started my job and the timing of it all was a bit overwhelming. There was the constant fear of losing him. And then the frustration of having to put work at bay and sit by his side while he complained about various things. It wasn’t easy. Forget easy, it swung between guilt and constant frustration.

The book talks about life with dignity and death that eases misery. And to many death is the worst. However I heard Daata wail with pain at times when the pain got too unbearable and that to me that looked worse than death. He even prayed to be eased with it. Till his last breath he would be surrounded by his family members and when the time came he somehow knew it, for he had called all his children and grandchildren and had apologised to them and had requested a few things of them and after that he had taken up complete silence for almost 2–3 days. He passed away in my mother’s arms and by the looks of it he seemed at peace at last.

Old age isn’t the only enemy being discussed here however it is also one form of terminal illness. Dying one day at a time. And when it gets too much what should we do about it? What should be the course of action?

Is hospital or nursing home the only way forward?

The major cause of disagreement between Daata and me was his constantly asking to be taken to the doctor/hospital. He forever hung to that hope that his old life would be given back to him and for a while it was but then it became an obsession. Doctor and hospital were words forever on his lips.

Neither the doctor ever asked what he wanted or what we wanted and neither did we ever have that word with him about how he wanted his existence to be.

Only now do I realise how important it is. Your expectations determine how you will get through this storm without feeling guilty or frustrated. The patients also understand, at first I was apprehensive of thinking so. But they really do understand if you’re honest with them. Nobody wants to utter that godforsaken word. My only takeaway is communicating with your loved ones and being sympathetic to their expectations and matching them with yours.