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August 2020

What's it like to have the M.A.I.D. drugs sitting on your kitchen counter?

Ronni Bennett knows now. Read her impressions and thoughts here.

As is usual with her, she writes with humor and honesty in this quote:
"But I suspect that more often now I will take up the questions that have both buoyed and bedeviled me from time to time
and even, in a couple of cases, made me laugh:
Will I have breakfast on the last morning? If so, how will I choose? Cheerios? Scrambled eggs? Maybe just a muffin with jam?
Should I wash the dishes or leave them for someone else?
And what does one wear to one's own death, especially when you know you are dressing for the final time?
To whom should I look for inspiration? Anne Boleyn? Marie Antoinette? Lady Jane Grey?"

Her post is well worth the read, IMO.


"Old age should burn and rave..." or maybe not...

Riffin' on Ronni Bennett again.  She is now under hospice care at home.

She says no.
"Going gentle into my personal good night is one reason I have embraced medical aid in dying.
Those drugs will send me on my way quietly without a prolonged period of decline or pain."

I confess that I tend to lean into the idea (of suicide), if not the reality.

But/and I know that a bit of depression is so common now that it is effecting almost everyone.  (and I have my therapist on Speed Dial!)
I've wondered about suicide rates in these months. There has been a lot written about the subject, mostly from a therapeutic POV.
You'll find no end of articles on Google if you're so inclined.

I'm completely with Ronni regarding attitude, though. I want to go gently. I believe it's a 'good night'.
The hard part now, when I contemplate my death, is the solitude the pandemic has/is enforcing.
I really don't want to die now...
...when it might be days before anyone knows it.
...or when someone might stop by and find Mango picking katecrone out of his teeth.    That's funny, you know.

And I kind of hope someone will be standing by, even though I know I'll make that trip alone.