Life Narratives
Dr. Zoller
Story 2
Hannah Lily
20 November, 2012
“On Death”:
Living Leads to Dying
Q:
How many people die every year?
A:
During 2008, an estimated 57 million people died ("The Top 10 Causes of
Death").
In
the United States alone the highest causes of death were as follows:
Heart
disease: 599,413. Cancer: 567,628. Chronic lower respiratory diseases: 137,353 (CDC/National
Center for Health Statistics).
Death affects us all.
There is nothing that you can do to change this fact. Family members, treasured pets, the
assassinations of presidents, and in the end, your own death, are all parts of
death. Medical procedures can prolong
your life for days, months, and sometimes even years, but your life will always
ultimately end. The Bible even tells me
so.
Knowledge of death surrounded me in numerous ways throughout
my childhood. I was born to an old
father and a young mother. The 33 year
age difference between my parents was quite disparaging, even to me. Most times though, it was what I thought of
as typical. When I was born in 1991 my
father was 62 years old, nearly retirement age.
It
was “normal” for my father to be in the hospital on Christmas day in 1995 with
a heart attack. Heart attacks were
prevalent on his side of the family and he suffered two more before he passed
away. He was plagued by numerous other health
afflictions as well that pointed toward the end of a life. Throughout my first eighteen years of life, I
came close to being able to gaining a medical degree. It was normal that my sister and I trooped
along with my father and mother as he met with the urologist, the cardiologist,
the radiologist. The “ist” became a
familiar sound to our ears and felt at home on our tongues. Topics such as bed sores were openly discussed
in front of me at the hospital with nurses. I knew my father had a DNR (Do Not
Resuscitate) policy; hospital staff had informed him that if he did need CPR at
any time it was likely that he would not survive and that if he did, it would
be with broken ribs at the least. I’ve
seen a catheter bag emptied and the number of bites from dinner recorded and
marked on the hospital’s “special chart”.
The harsher side of life was always lurking at the sidelines if not
fully in front.
At
times, my father could not care for himself and that duty fell upon me. My mom was gone dropping my sister off at
college in Oklahoma and I had drawn the short straw of being the youngest, and
thus, caregiver of my father while they were away. He wouldn’t have the strength to rise out of
bed sometimes. I remember walking into
my parent’s bedroom, standing as still as I possibly could, listening intently
for the sounds of my father’s breathing.
A few times I was not able to hear anything, and I would then concentrate
to see if the sheets on the bed rose and fell with his chest. Desperate panic set in a couple of times when
I could not detect either. I have still
never felt anything like that of thinking that my father might be dead while I
was in charge of his care. He always
kept breathing though.
He kept breathing, although at one point he wouldn’t have
been able to without the help of a ventilator.
He’d gone into the hospital for an, as the doctor said, “easy, three day
maximum” gallbladder removal surgery.
The surgery did go well, but the anesthesiologist’s incompetence allowed
the mixture of two potent drugs to interact, stopping the message from my
father’s brain to his lungs telling them to breathe. In the next few hours, my
mom, sister, and I sat huddled around the telephone waiting for news. It was
four o’clock in the morning, the hospital was an hour away, and my mom had only
gotten home an hour before after the nurses had assured her he would wake in a
few hours. Instead, we received the call
that his heart had stopped, a breathing tube had been put in and he showed no
signs of recognition in his surroundings.
We would go to the hospital in the morning. We arrived in the morning and to our great
surprise he opened his eyes! The
ventilator stayed attached for a total of four days as he remained in the
Intensive Care Unit. He remained in the
hospital for two more weeks after that.
Death is sometimes recognizable. Not with the human eye, but with our
senses. It was not until the summer
before I came to college that I realized this fact and knew my father demise
was imminent. I had never been so sure
before in my life. On July 3rd,
his heart started to give out once again.
He was rushed to the local emergency room 20 miles away where a
temporary pacemaker was attached. A care
flight was coming to pick him up to fly him to the heart hospital for further
assistance. Our local health center
would not have the expertise or facilities to care for him. My mom and I ventured into the tiny, septic
room at the emergency room before his transfer to see him and say our goodbyes
just in case. As I went to stand back
near the doorway one of the ambulance crew workers tried to reassure me. This was her statement regarding a medical
procedure that was occurring, “They are putting that tube down his throat
because when you hand pump oxygen into his lungs, it is likely that he will throw
up. The tube will keep him from choking.” Choking on your own vomit…what an awful way
to die. What an awful way to live.
The cardiologist did not think that my father would have
the strength to pull through the surgery to have the pacemaker put in, but
without it we had no chance. His heart
couldn’t live on its own power. He made
it the through the operation, but recovery was slow. While he was able to go home within two
weeks, my family soon realized it was not a viable option. He was unstable when he walked, falling over
numerous times. His appetite
deteriorated. Food had no taste to him
and as he said
It was a joke that wasn’t funny in my family that in the
first few years that we lived in South Dakota, we were invited to four or five
weddings, but attended around twenty funerals.
Maybe that’s because my father made so many connections among the older
generation.
Death
has its own smell. The antiseptic,
sterile environment of a nursing home cannot fully cover the stench that is
radiating throughout. The smell soaks
into the walls. You can’t wash it
away. It lingers on you. It lingers with you. It becomes a part of you. I’ve gone to nursing homes many times to
visit with residents and the smell is always there. People crouched over in wheelchairs, minds gone. Still there are others who can’t rise out of
bed without assistance. People who aren’t
living, just existing. Oh! Death where
is they sting? Right in the center of my
heart.
***
Death imparts itself upon more than the human
condition. It also carries a strong
influence upon physical and metaphysical ideas – small towns that are “dying
off.” Some small towns die quickly; some
small towns die slowly. I look to my own
personal experience for observation on the phenomenon. My family moved to the town of Lily, South
Dakota, back in 1997. In 2000, the U.S.
government census listed 21 residents (“Lily, South Dakota Population”). At the peak of population in the town, there
were close to 200 residents (according to the 1920 U.S. government census). The area was bustling with jobs, as trains
traveled through town picking up various crops and goods and carrying
passengers to the station stop. The high
school boys’ basketball team was state champion. There were Lutheran and Catholic churches to
provide for the religious needs of residents.
There was also the Solberg gas station, a highly involved membership of
the Engebretson-Lien Post 156 of the American Legion of Lily, SD, a corner drug
store owned by the parents of Hubert H. Humphrey, a grocery store, and a post
office – it offered all that was needed to survive in the early 1900s.
The town itself was named after the first postmaster’s
sister, Lily. It was only by pure happenstance
that my parents saw the name of the town, Lily, the same as our last name, on
the map when we were traveling through the state of South Dakota. They decided that we needed to stop and see
what the area was like. It would be amusing
to have a town named directly after you, but in our case, it was only that way
because my parents chose to move there.
The
2010 census tells a much different story of my little town of Lily. It lists four official residents (“Lily,
South Dakota Population”). Four. Yet, the town hangs on with a thread of life
like a body with an IV attached. My
mother has served as mayor for the past 3 years and I even attended a position
on the board for a year before coming to college. Town board meetings would last anywhere from
an hour to three hours. It was
comparable to making funeral arrangements; the town wasn’t that close to death,
yet we all knew that it would be coming.
My
mother, Christine, is currently in the process of selling our house and moving
to a much livelier city, Aberdeen, with its population 21,000. Only 60 miles away from Lily and yet Lily is
just too rural to attract the younger generation looking for jobs. The one couple in town is also planning to
move. My older sister got married two
years ago and isn’t likely to return.
When I graduate, finding a job will be foremost important to me and
there are no jobs to return to in Lily. After these transitions and current residents
move, there will be two full time residents living in Lily (unless the houses
up for sale are bought quickly and previous owners replaced). The town board will most likely cease to
function without a quorum. In essence, the
town will be dead. Still in my mind, its
rich history will live on. Stories from
the “old-timers” about getting into fights during the roaring dances at the
legion, the annual Turkey Shoots, and learning that at one time Clark Gable came
pheasant hunting in the area with his wife will remain in my heart and in my
mind.
I
think of the other small towns, and by small I mean less than 500, in the area
and the rich history they provide as well.
Roslyn is the home of Myron Floren accordionist on The Lawrence Welk
Show – a favorite of my father’s. The
list goes on: Sparky Anderson - baseball manager, Bridgewater; Tom Brokaw - TV
newscaster, Webster; John James Exon - senator, Geddes; Crazy Horse - Oglala
chief; Oscar Howe - Sioux artist, Joe Creek; Hubert H. Humphrey - senator and
vice president, Wallace; Roy Braxton Justus -
cartoonist, Avon; Ward L. Lambert - basketball, Deadwood; Ernest Orlando
Lawrence - physicist, Canton; Russell Means - American Indian activist, Pine
Ridge; George McGovern - politician, Avon; Dorothy Provine - actress, Deadwood;
Sitting Bull Hunkpappa - Sioux chief; Jess Thomas - opera singer, Hot Springs; Norm
Van Brocklin - football player, Parade; and Mamie Van Doren - actress, Rowena ("Famous
South Dakotans"). These people were
all raised in the small towns of South Dakota. And now they are steadily
disappearing as school districts shrink and consolidate, people pass away and
no newcomers move in, and in general, they are simply forgotten as death moves
in.
***
Lives
begin and lives end. What’s most
important is what you do with it in the meantime. As the Bible clearly states in Romans 14:8, “For
whether we live, we live unto the Lord; and whether we die, we die unto the
Lord: whether we live therefore, or die, we are the Lord's.” Death has no power over us. What death is is a tragedy and a blessing
that befalls us all, whether in the death of a parent, great aunt, beloved dog,
or home. Mark Twain said, “The fear of
death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die
at any time.” I’m ready for you death…and
I’m coming…one day.
WORKS CITED
CDC/National
Center for Health Statistics. "FASTSTATS - Leading Causes of Death."Centers
for
Disease Control and Prevention. Centers for Disease
Control and Prevention, 19 Oct. 2012. Web. 27 Nov. 2012.
<http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/fastats/lcod.htm>.
"Famous
South Dakotans." Famous South Dakota People. 50states, n.d.
Web. 27 Nov. 2012.
<http://www.50states.com/bio/sdakota.htm>.
"Lily,
South Dakota Population:Census 2010 and 2000 Interactive Map, Demographics,
Statistics, Quick Facts." Lily, SD
Population. Census Viewer, n.d. Web. 27 Nov. 2012.
<http://censusviewer.com/city/SD/Lily>.
"The
Top 10 Causes of Death." WHO. World Health Organization, n.d. Web. 27 Nov.
2012.
<http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs310/en/index2.html>.
Video of Lily, SD
 |
| Clark Gable and wife, Carole Lombard, hunting near Lily, SD in October 1941 |
