Going Out HIs Way

MY UNCLE, on the verge of his ninety fourth birthday, was admitted to the hospital in order to undergo a routine procedure to repair an intestinal problem. The operation went well, according to the surgeon, and, with a few weeks in rehab, he would be released, back on his feet, good to go, with, his doctor stated, the body and health of a much younger man. My uncle did not agree. He indicated that the procedure had not gone well, and that he intended to be sent home, so that he could look out the window, spend a few final moments with his dogs, then. The doctor responded that, indeed, he would someday die, but not soon, and certainly not as a result of his repaired colon. His family, nuclear and extended, sided with the doctor. Let's get you up and out of her, and back into action. Each time one of us thus prevailed upon him, he seemed to adopt a more positive attitude, and to agree with our optimism. then, soon after our propaganda wore of, he would sink back into his determination to go home, hang with the dogs, look out the window, and die. So persistent was he, and of such clarity of mind, that he was released into his own custody, and that of his wife. He went home, took to his bed, refused to eat, although physically there was nothing to stop him, and, within a few days, died. True story. His doctor, to whom I did not speak again, must have been quite frustrated. The rest of us certainly were, as well as being devastated. My uncle was a man accustomed to being in control. A business owner, type A alpha male, that sort of thing. Most of us do not choose the time, place, and manner of our death. As my grief levels out, I take solace that he proved it is possible to do so.