Jacklyn Calvard is good at dealing with death – just not her own
I currently run a book club within the hospice I work in, and Me, Before You by Jojo Moyes was our choice this month. I won’t give awat any spoilers but it made me realise that in all my time as a palliative care nurse, I had never really thought about what my own death means to me.
Thinking of actually dying has always invoked a fear deep within me, drawing every rational thought from my mind, leaving me feeling older, more wrinkled and none the wiser.
A palliative care nurse who is afraid of dying might be ironic, but it’s only my death I am scared of, not yours. I realised after much thinking that involving others in our thoughts and fears might be more important than we make time for. We need to be a bit more willing to chat about death to eradicate this hush-hush carry-on.
Death itself can be seen like a failure. You watch the shiny medical dramas with the medics running about dramatically shocking chests and getting very emotional when the person does not come back from the dead. The reality is, death is a natural result of living, albeit, a scary part.
We need to speak with each other about our final destination. I don’t mean what happens on the other side but the last stop on the train.
Future wishes is a central theme of Me, Before You. It made me aware how much time I spend trying to dodge the trains on the way to the final station on my own journey.
If you would like to discuss death and dying, then I am your woman, but to ask me to chat about my own wishes and fears then I’ll be over that level crossing like a medal-winning hurdle jumper.
So, here I am writing it down. The only shared statement across humanity… I am going to die.
The people who love me, might be saying “Stop that doom and gloom! Don’t be morbid! Don’t speak that way!” but already I know after thinking deeply that I am not trying to be dark, I am simply being practical.
If you were going on a journey, you would want to be prepared. Maps, torches, sat-navs, packed lunches, child-care, and the list goes on. So let us now start preparing for the journey we are already on: it’s not too late to jump off the train and grab some essentials.
Go to a lawyer and prepare a will (also ensuring your digital assets are organised), speak with family and friends about what matters to you. Alert your GP of specific healthcare requests such as donating your organs for transplant or medical research.
Knowing that your partner wants Highway to Hell played while they are cremated might not be the most comforting thought but it’s a start. Humour can open all kinds of conversations, so don’t be afraid to laugh along the way.
I respect the main character of the book for highlighting that regardless of people’s opinions on assisted suicide and euthanasia, the main focus is on individual choice.
And so, I turned to face myself (metaphorically of course, I am not that flexible) and I opened that closed off section in my mind and said “How can you be you if you don’t even know you?”.
To live well, we must make plans to die well. I don’t want to be stuck at the automatic barriers, searching for guidance while others sweep past me. We can’t run and we can’t hide so let’s embrace the future and help each other to confront the fear.
Jacklyn Calvard is a palliative care nurse, she is writing in a personal capacity.
