Having bounced in and out of hospital so many times in my life, I can't help but wonder what would happen in the aftermath if I went in someday and didn't make it home. Most people don't sit around chatting with their loved ones about whether they want to be buried or cremated or both or something else, and I know my closest relative is uncomfortable with any talk about "that death stuff," so how could anyone guess at what I'd want my send-off to be, and who would pay for it? I decided to take the matter in hand and pre-plan for my funeral.
Actually, I've pre-planned to not have a funeral. A lovely Pre-Arrangement Counselor from Holman's Funeral & Cremation Service here in Portland worked with me to arrange to be cremated, and I selected a nondescript, white urn made of cornstarch to hold my ashes. What's left of me will be shipped to my aforementioned closest relative, who can either keep the urn aboveground, where it will remain intact, or it can be buried and the cornstarch will biodegrade. Certainly my choice is one of the more low-key options. If I'd wanted to, I could have arranged to have my ashes float out to sea in a dissolvable sculpture turtle. The possibilities may in fact be endless, and I was impressed to see there is an entire catalog of "eco-friendly" options from which to choose.
It's been ages since I signed so many papers. I think the last time was when I bought my last car. But pre-arrangement is a big deal. You're acting on blind faith, regardless of the paperwork, when you contract with a company to pick up your body, transport it to the crematorium, cremate it, package the ashes, and ship the ashes to someone in another state. Although the forms begin with a Performance Guarantee, it's not like I'm going to be around to confirm that they got it right. Death is an absolute no-win for control freaks.
Along with all the forms, the Pre-Arrangement folder I received includes a Planning Guide, which I think is a brilliant idea. Within it one can detail one's final wishes and provide access info for financial institutions and online profiles. There's also a page to list people whom you know you want to be informed of your death (Of course it says inform of your "passing," but I think "passing" is a silly euphemism. I always think of passing gas or passing a bad check.).
Despite the above, I'm still focused on living. The second week of resumed chemo has gone pretty well. Today being two days after, which is usually when the side effects are the worst, I'm happy to report virtually no stomach pain. I've had a couple of hints of it, moments when my stomach hurt, but it quickly went away, and for that I'm quite grateful. The bone pain and fatigue are significant, though.
My labs on Thursday showed another slight increase in my platelets. I'm at 75, and low normal is 140, but last week I was at 70. Despite the low count, it's good news because it means my bones are doing what they should be, they're just not doing it enough, yet.
I'm counting down to the scans on Wednesday, hoping and hoping and hoping the news is good.
Actually, I've pre-planned to not have a funeral. A lovely Pre-Arrangement Counselor from Holman's Funeral & Cremation Service here in Portland worked with me to arrange to be cremated, and I selected a nondescript, white urn made of cornstarch to hold my ashes. What's left of me will be shipped to my aforementioned closest relative, who can either keep the urn aboveground, where it will remain intact, or it can be buried and the cornstarch will biodegrade. Certainly my choice is one of the more low-key options. If I'd wanted to, I could have arranged to have my ashes float out to sea in a dissolvable sculpture turtle. The possibilities may in fact be endless, and I was impressed to see there is an entire catalog of "eco-friendly" options from which to choose.
It's been ages since I signed so many papers. I think the last time was when I bought my last car. But pre-arrangement is a big deal. You're acting on blind faith, regardless of the paperwork, when you contract with a company to pick up your body, transport it to the crematorium, cremate it, package the ashes, and ship the ashes to someone in another state. Although the forms begin with a Performance Guarantee, it's not like I'm going to be around to confirm that they got it right. Death is an absolute no-win for control freaks.
Along with all the forms, the Pre-Arrangement folder I received includes a Planning Guide, which I think is a brilliant idea. Within it one can detail one's final wishes and provide access info for financial institutions and online profiles. There's also a page to list people whom you know you want to be informed of your death (Of course it says inform of your "passing," but I think "passing" is a silly euphemism. I always think of passing gas or passing a bad check.).
Despite the above, I'm still focused on living. The second week of resumed chemo has gone pretty well. Today being two days after, which is usually when the side effects are the worst, I'm happy to report virtually no stomach pain. I've had a couple of hints of it, moments when my stomach hurt, but it quickly went away, and for that I'm quite grateful. The bone pain and fatigue are significant, though.
My labs on Thursday showed another slight increase in my platelets. I'm at 75, and low normal is 140, but last week I was at 70. Despite the low count, it's good news because it means my bones are doing what they should be, they're just not doing it enough, yet.
I'm counting down to the scans on Wednesday, hoping and hoping and hoping the news is good.
