Miles To Go.

Megan... got me thinking

Not long ago, I was in the animal hospital with the last and most lively of my Rottweiler gang, Megan.

She was closing in on the happy hunting grounds and I was there to say when. Balancing dignity with a finances, even for canine care, is not easy. With each deferral of the inevitable came the bill; in this case about $1k a day for superior care and technology (I could have opted for more technology and cost, but kept it practical, at least I thought). When it was over, we spent more in the final four days of care than we did in the preceding 11 years. For virtually the same result. A wonderful experience with a great dog that gave us a ton of happiness and four days of pain.

Thats when this came across my smartphone:

The New York Times Prime Number 197: The amount, in thousands of dollars, that the typical married couple at age 65 should expect to spend on uninsured health care costs over the rest of their lives, according to the Center for Retirement Research at Boston College. This total includes insurance premiums, out-of-pocket costs and home health care costs, but it does not include nursing home care. Including the cost of nursing home care, typical lifetime health care costs shoot up to $260,000, the center estimated.

Ok, people are not dogs. And vice versa. For one thing, people have a say in their care when conscious, while dogs can only rely on the incredible messages in their eyes. But for me, it leaves a good lesson in dong what is right, responsible , and sensible.

So whats it all about? In a word, hospice. For dogs and people.

It’s the ability to realize end of life and deal with it in dignity and balance. To live lives that are not based on the number of breaths we take, but the number of times our breath is taken away. And to not selfishly chase the “miracle “of a few more days at the cost of a lifetime of savings wasted. There is a wonderful hospice movement that continues to grow in scope and service in the US. I think it is important and deserves support and fostering.

Look, I know well the incredible boil of issues that is healthcare in America today. This is just one stab at a part of the problem. But it’s a good stab I think. Love to know what others think…

Rottweiler extraordinaire Netscape came to her end, taking it with dignity and grace. Much like Mom did last year. (Where does this courage come from?) I’ve noticed that the number of my friends on the other side of the golden reeds has been growing. I could have hardly made a list ten years ago. Now I have plenty of friends there, and more new ones keeping getting added. I just never know when, or who with any certainty. One point Dad made rings true, if you have friends on both sides, it’s not so lonely a passing.

I’ve also taken the summer to teach my wacky niece to scuba dive (way under age) in the pool out back. I gave her a short course on the dangers and excitement of being underwater, an we take a tank down to share. If you want to see the definition of wide eyes, check out an eight year old when she breathes underwater the first time. We mostly play ”coins of the world” or tic-tac-toe until the air runs low. As always, we plan our dive, dive the plan, check our air, and ascend with no complaints when it’s over.

When I first began to dive, it was all about the gauges. How much air is left? What’s our depth. How far am I from my buddies if I have an issue?. How is my buoyancy? My equalization? My BCV? Where’s the boat? How far did we drift? How are my dive partners faring? How much air again, and again and again. I was running so many calculations and working so hard, I would blow through 3,000 psi in 35 minutes and be done.

Of course, I was in the Galapagos getting the crap scared out of me by hammerheads, bulls, white tips, thermo climes and nasty surges, so that sucked up some extra air as well.

But somewhere around dive #50, I hit a very different zone. My skills improved to the point of being quite natural with what was quite foreign during dive #10. I now know I have 55 minutes under, because that is generally the boat rule. And I know that time can be cut short anytime if something goes bad. The choice I do have is what I accomplish when down there. If I do all the things a good diver does, I have 55 minutes of pure bliss in the most beautiful natural habitat on the earth, the sea. I can fill my time with as much exploring, learning and observing as I can take. So I don’t complain when time is up, and we ascend to the surface. (The calming affects of nitrogen absorption may help a little as well).

So, why is a life to be so different than a dive? We all have a timer on us. We all jump in knowing one day were out of air and headed back to the boat. It really boils down to what we make of our dive. Gauges are important, but they are not the reason we dive. We dive to learn, to explore, and to enjoy. My mom would sometimes say ?it is not the number of breaths you take, but the number of times your breath is taken away?. Indeed.

If you go
» Suunto, if you need a gauge
» Captain Saam, if you want a great, over the top instructor