On a brisk day at a restaurant outside Chicago, Deb Robertson sat with her teenage grandson to talk about her death.
She’ll probably miss his high school graduation. She declined the extended warranty on her car. Sometimes she wonders who will be at her funeral.
Those things don’t frighten her much. The 65-year-old didn’t cry when she learned two months ago that the cancerous tumors in her liver were spreading, portending a tormented death.
But later, she received a call. A bill moving through the Illinois Legislature to allow certain terminally ill patients to end their own lives with a doctor’s help had made progress.
Then she cried.
“Medical-aid in dying is not me choosing to die,” she says she told her 17-year-old grandson. “I am going to die. But it is my way of having a little bit more control over what it looks like in the end.”
That same conversation is happening beside hospital beds and around dinner tables across the country, as Americans who are nearing life’s end negotiate the terms with themselves, their families and, now, state lawmakers.
It must be tough to get to the end of your life and see nothing but people looking to profit off your passing.
Put me in a coffee can and blow it up or something.
I always said: “just put me out with the trash”.
The cost of anything death related is so immensly high, even the cheap options are too much imo.
Budget Cremation: they toss the body in a dumpster and set it on fire.
My mom said the same thing most of her life. When it came down to it, (bone cancer in her hip) she asked to be cremated, and her ashes scattered somewhere she’d never been. That’s hard to do, she’s been a lot of places.
Personally given how fucked my brain is from mental unwellness, I’d like my remains to be studied for whatever I can provide to the future of modern medicine.
Hey, it’s how 99.9% of the rest of life went! Lol
Humans are supposedly 60% water but for me, at least half of that has been replaced with coffee by now.
The woman in the article is 65 Years Old. She is old enough to remember some of the third places that were free to exist in.
Which probably makes it worse…
What’s a third place?
Not home, not work.
Or school, for those young enough to still be going to school.
Ah yes, those places largely no longer exist.
A lot of third places (aside from things like parks) did want people’s money. Malls, cafes, arcades…
The dying and dead are great people to fight for, you get to name ANYTHING your heart desires and claim you’re doing it for them.
The dying can contradict you and you can just blame it on delirium “See! They’re so crazy from illness that they think they don’t need me, that PROVES that they need me!”, and the dead will quietly let you exploit them for sympathy!