I have an issue with doctors who tell their patients how much time they have to live, three to six months, six to nine. Who are they, anyway? I thought God was the one who decided when one’s life is over.
There was a time when if a person had a serious disease, it was hidden from that patient for as long as he or she lived. Unless the person asks the doctor what his fate is, he shouldn’t be told. When a person is not told he’s dying, he lives with the hope that from day to day, things will get better.
I had a close friend who was told she had six to nine months to live. She lived alone, got depressed and lived in total fear that this was the day or that she wouldn’t wake up. What a cruel ordeal this was for her. She lived through major surgery and died almost three years after she was told six to nine months.
She wasn’t in pain, either. She went out to eat with friends, visited relatives, went to church and even went to concerts.
Elderly people know what’s coming; they are usually ready. Doctors don’t have to use that as an excuse.
Doctors should be kind and compassionate. Keep the prognosis to themselves. As for me, I don’t want to know. When God is ready, he’ll come for me, ready or not. Sometimes, he comes like a thief in the night. But, I’m ready at all times.
Jane B. Theriault, Lewiston