Not the News

A post about news broadcasts – what are they, and are they really ‘news’?

Readers of this blog will recall my difficulties with the BBC here and here, questioning standards of broadcasting, and examining the future of the BBC as a public service broadcaster. This post is different – for here I seek to address a commercial aspect of ‘news broadcasting’, asking the question: what are we being given…is it really news or something else?

This morning I awoke early. Of the three regular ‘news broadcasters’ – BBC Radio 4, Times Radio, and when necessary Talk Radio, I chose Aasmah Mir and Stig Abell of Times Radio, not least because I admire Abell as a broadcaster and enjoy the interaction of the co-presenters.

In those drifting moments between dozing and wakefulness it appeared as if the programme producers were obsessed by one topic. Whilst not to the exclusion of others such as GP retirements, Ukraine, a small spot on climate change and sport, the latter part of the programme was dominated by the topic of the Conservative party vote on the Prime Minister.

Admittedly, this was and remains an important issue. The outcome of the vote will have national implications and inevitable international repercussions – but so called ‘news’ coverage extended far beyond information sharing and news reporting. It mainly comprised opinion on speculation, with contributors (mostly politicians) informing us what ‘the British public was thinking’, and re-defining opinion as fact.

It was the BBC that replaced news bulletins, with news and comment in its present popularist, rolling form. In the early days, commentary involved reasoned analysis, often from highly informed sources, mostly as objective (as any opinion can be), embracing, exploring and comparing options, balancing opposing views and considering them fairly and without harassment.

Currently the ‘news programmes’ have sought another audience – one that is tolerant of micro-speculation, seeks drama, tuning into speculative faux-forecasts from bit-players, apparently relishing the interventionist and hectoring interviewing techniques from biased interrogators.

My questions: am I alone in lamenting the passing of proper news bulletins – broadcasts that reported facts and events, rather than a bilious diet of half-informed opinion from third party players and journalists? Why should news programming be continuously streamed? Do I really need to know what is anticipated from a statement, as opposed to being informed of its actual content?…’In the next hour the Prime Minister is likely to announce…..

What has been the purpose of an inordinate focus on ‘party-gate’, or the hypothesised aftermath of a failed vote? I ask myself whether I should continue to consume a diet of ‘news’, or simply turn to favoured podcasts for that tiny drop of discerning intelligence?

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Gut reaction

A post about the brain and the gut – the important two way communication and its implications

‘I feel it in my gut’ was one of those ‘unscientific’ comments uttered by folklorist naturists who, when not hugging trees, were discussing their intestines. And I have to admit, I was one of the sceptics until I decided to inform myself about the topic.

In their research paper, ‘The gut-brain axis: interactions between enteric microbiota, central and enteric nervous systems’, Marilia CarabottiAnnunziata SciroccoMaria Antonietta Maselli, and Carola Severi wrote, ‘The gut-brain axis (GBA) consists of bidirectional communication between the central and the enteric nervous system (ENS), linking emotional and cognitive centers of the brain with peripheral intestinal functions. Recent advances in research have described the importance of gut microbiota in influencing these interactions. This interaction between microbiota and GBA appears to be bidirectional, namely through signaling from gut-microbiota to brain and from brain to gut-microbiota by means of neural, endocrine, immune, and humoral links. ‘

‘Insights into the gut-brain crosstalk have revealed a complex communication system that not only ensures the proper maintenance of gastrointestinal homeostasis, but is likely to have multiple effects on affect, motivation, and higher cognitive functions.’ 

It seems that our fixation with ‘the mind’ in our head may be misplaced. In focusing on brain activity and consciousness we neglect millions of microbiota living within us that generate and send messages from the ENS to the brain through our arterial and nerve pathways in the form of hormones and other instructional chemical compounds.

The fact is that our microbiome functions precisely like that of mycelium, the vegetative part of fungi. Put simply, it (they) transmit information, not on a random basis, but targeted both as to destination and purpose. Suzanne Simard in her delightfully informative book ‘Finding the Mother Tree – Uncovering the wisdom and intelligence of the forest’, describes the process perfectly with peer-reviewed science, showing how mycorrhizal fungi facilitate the exchange of nutrients, compounds and information between each other and other species through complex networks that resemble the human brain.

Our limited sensory perceptions processed by a ‘cerebral’ head-brain that has evolved for specific purposes, gives us little insight into evolution’s purposes. Are we humans actually the zenith of an evolutionary process that seeks ‘to perfect’ life, or might we simply be the fruiting bodies of the microbiota that appear to control our development through 100 million nerve cells, using our ambulant and reproductive capacity to redistribute their lifeforms?

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Does biking better your brain?

Thanks to Ridenow.com for the pic

A post about the way in which motorcycling affects brain functioning, and whether a bike can be a factor in combatting stress, dementia and Parkinson’s.

Previously I addressed the risks of motorcycling – so here in this post are some of the benefits , with a special focus on brain health.

The header image depicts the human brain. I cannot vouch for its functional accuracy, but the elements are clear. Our most complex organ, the brain controls and coordinates our actions and reactions, allowing us to think and feel. The frontal lobe handles movement, problem-solving, concentration and mood; top back is the parietal lobe which manages our sensations, perceptions, body-awareness and attention; below the occipital lobe is responsible for vision and perception; and at the bottom the cerebellum governs posture, balance and movement coordination.

Neuroplasticity (brain flexibility ) is the ability of our brain/nervous system to change its activity by reorganising its structure, functions and connections in response to extrinsic stimuli. It is compromised as we age. It is this that we need to preserve. And it seems that biking may be an answer, helping us to ‘rewire our brains’.

Research papers have shown that motorbiking is low-impact physical exercise, using just under 400 cals/hr (the same as a brisk walk) . Being active this way pumps increased levels of oxygen to the brain, aiding the release of hormones which provide growth of brain cells.

But more important for motorcyclists is its benefit-inducing ‘mental exercise’.

The Harley-Davison funded research paper in ScienceDirect, ‘Modulation of attention and stress with arousal: the mental and physical effects of riding a motorcycle‘ tested motorcyclists whilst riding, and found factors suggesting enhancement of sensory processing (the way the brain receives, organises and responds to sensory input) and visual attention (the ability to prepare for, select and maintain awareness of locations, objects or attributes of the visual scene). Riding increased epinephrine (adrenaline) levels, increased the heart rate, and decreased the ratio of cortisol (stress hormone) to DHEA-S (an androgen found in the adrenal glands that decreases with age). Together, these results suggest that riding increases focus, heightens the brain’s passive monitoring of changes in the sensory environment, and alters HPA axis response (the balance between the hypothalamus, the pituitary gland, and the adrenal).

It is well known that amongst the risk factors for dementia are reduced physical and cognitive activity leading to hypertension (vascular restriction resulting in high blood pressure), exacerbated by obesity. In passing, I should add that hearing loss is also a significant factor, so motorcyclists should wear ear protection.

Motorcycling combines modest but sustained physical activity in managing both bike and ride, with an active level of mental concentration and response to random events. Importantly too, it can offer a high level of social interaction through a motorcycle club, group, or bike-related community events, reducing apathy, isolation, depression and promoting sleep.

Whilst riding your bike may not be the perfect solution for the host of mental health issues that can be encountered in life, and is not without its known risks, it is certainly a pleasurable dopamine-enhancing activity, as Barry has found when managing his Parkinson’s disease. Here, from the Netherlands, is an inspirational article relating to a Parkinson’s patient when cycling.

When your friends next question your wisdom in riding a motorcycle, just tell them that your doctor prescribed a Royal Enfield Meteor (rather than a cycle) for a whole host of reasons that they wouldn’t understand unless they tried it!


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The age of motorcycling

A post – not really about motorcycles – but about age, adventure and risk

In April 2018 I posted about risk and our wish to live risk-free. In that piece my focus concerned the soft-risk of tackling Argentine tango; but concluding, I mentioned Elspeth Beard who spent two and a half years to tour the world on her BMW 600/5 motorcycle. About her journey she reported, “there is never a right time, don’t wait until everything is perfect, for you will never go….You don’t know the person you are until you test yourself”.

When I first bought a motorcycle in 1974 an elderly friend admonished me, ‘If you loved your mother you wouldn’t ride a motorbike’. Back then the risks were visceral – of young men on hospital wards most were motorcyclists.

45 years on from my first motorbike – a Honda 125, and 30 years since my last – a BMW K75, my social media friends will know that I have returned to biking with the acquisition of a new Royal Enfield Meteor small classic cruiser.

My fifteen years of motorcycling were fairly intense. In the 1980s I was one of but two motorbiking barristers working in the Temple, the heart of legal London. As a public prosecutor I visited every court in South East England on a motorbike. With a biking girlfriend as pillion, I toured the French coast, crossing the stormy Pyrenees at night to head for Barcelona.

But, of course, thirty years absent from two wheels is a long time in motorcycling life. And it is right to say that the return to biking has been both a risk and a challenge. One of my dearest friends observed, ‘Aren’t you a bit old for a mid-life crisis?’ He had a point, for it was the assumption of risk that lay at the heart of his comment. My readers will be delighted to know that, to date, I have encountered no mishap on the way to my first 1000 miles. But ‘the journey’ has greatly informed me about the question of risk-taking.

As we age there is a tendency to shun risks – whether those soft challenges about which I previously wrote, or the harder ones which I now address. It might be partly to attain the stress-free life that we feel we have earned, or simply an age-related aversion to stepping from our comfort zone. Perhaps the aspiration that lies at the heart of the matter is our determination to seek immortality?

My biking adventure has taught me that avoiding challenges simply accumulates our fears, whilst embracing risk frees us from them. For my few senior readers, as we transition from pandemic to epidemic, might this be the right moment to question our risk-aversion and risk-taking? We are not destined to live for ever, and our vibrant later-life might be enhanced by taking on a few strategic challenges.

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Do you live alone? Not for long!

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A post about world population and whether we should regard it as a problem?

As an ageing blogger, my future is quite tangible. It will last as long as I breathe, which hopefully will be long enough to finish this post. But if you are a millennial, your life may take you to 2064 and beyond.

Which brings me to a study published in The Lancet on 14 July 2020 by twenty four scientists working under Professors Chris Murray and Stein Emil Vollset of the Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation, University of Washington. It provides a timely update to my previous post on the topic here.

Their interest was to map world population on the basis of fertility, mortality and migration and to make forecasts up to year 2100. To do this, they examined population changes in 195 countries from 2017. Their findings make interesting reading.

A rigorous scientific approach is required for reliable forecasting, and key to this method is something known as the ‘total fertility rate’ (TFR). With Covid-19 we have become used to the concept of the ‘r factor‘ for virus replication. TFR is similar to this but shows the reproduction rate of humans. In this study, the authors forecast a TFR of 1.66 in 2100.

To understand where they are going, we need to understand where we have been. Here is a chart showing population change from 1955.

Year
(July 1)
PopulationYearly %
Change
Yearly
Change
Median
Age
Fertility
Rate
Density
(P/Km²)
Urban
Pop %
Urban Population
20207,794,798,7391.05 %81,330,63930.92.475256.2 %4,378,993,944
20197,713,468,1001.08 %82,377,06029.82.515255.7 %4,299,438,618
20187,631,091,0401.10 %83,232,11529.82.515155.3 %4,219,817,318
20177,547,858,9251.12 %83,836,87629.82.515154.9 %4,140,188,594
20167,464,022,0491.14 %84,224,91029.82.515054.4 %4,060,652,683
20157,379,797,1391.19 %84,594,707302.525054.0 %3,981,497,663
20106,956,823,6031.24 %82,983,315282.584751.7 %3,594,868,146
20056,541,907,0271.26 %79,682,641272.654449.2 %3,215,905,863
20006,143,493,8231.35 %79,856,169262.784146.7 %2,868,307,513
19955,744,212,9791.52 %83,396,384253.013944.8 %2,575,505,235
19905,327,231,0611.81 %91,261,864243.443643.0 %2,290,228,096
19854,870,921,7401.79 %82,583,645233.593341.2 %2,007,939,063
19804,458,003,5141.79 %75,704,582233.863039.3 %1,754,201,029
19754,079,480,6061.97 %75,808,712224.472737.7 %1,538,624,994
19703,700,437,0462.07 %72,170,690224.932536.6 %1,354,215,496
19653,339,583,5971.93 %60,926,770225.0222N.A.N.A.
19603,034,949,7481.82 %52,385,962234.902033.7 %1,023,845,517
19552,773,019,9361.80 %47,317,757234.9719N.A.N.A.

 

Returning to the Lancet study, you will notice that the authors projected the TFR for 2100 of 1.66, continuing the falling trend we have seen from 1965. This should however be referenced to a less optimistic view in a further Lancet article here.

On this basis they determined that the global population will peak in 2064 at 9.73 billion humans (range 8.84-10.9) – nearly 2 billion more than our current population of 7.79 billion. They estimate that it will then fall by 2100 to 8.79 billion (range 6.83-11.8) – 1 billion more than now.

In 2100, the largest projected populations would be India (1.09b), Nigeria (791m), China (732m), USA (336m) and Pakistan (248m); whilst some countries, particularly Japan, Thailand and Spain, would have faced population decline on the basis of fertility. Of a world population in 2100 of 9.73b, those over 65 years would constitute 2.37b (range 1.91-2.87), whilst those under 20 years will be 1.7b (range 1.11-2.81).

During the 20th century alone, the population in the world grew from 1.65 billion to 6 billion. In 1970, there were roughly half as many people in the world as there are now. If you are under 68 years at the date of posting, this wizard will tell you the size of world population at your birth.      

For the purpose of this post I don’t propose to examine fertility rates against notional replacement levels to keep population stable. My interest is simply that in your, your children or grandchildren’s lifetime, in a world already overcrowded by human population, our numbers will grow by a further 25%.

I raise this topic for three main reasons – environment, biodiversity and lifestyle. I am not one that subscribes to a theory of human starvation. I have every belief that as a species, we will meet all of the challenges to stay alive – with intensive food production, some modification of global temperature, and medical advances. But other problems appear almost insurmountable. Our levels of world contamination and resource depletion are only eclipsed as problems by the huge pressure we place on the habitat of other species. As we travel this route, with increasing numbers, we forfeit the opportunities that we and our forebears have enjoyed – wilderness, living alongside nature, escaping the pressures of density.

I am always surprised, when scientists, politicians and social researchers speak of the challenges that face humanity, that there is yawning silence about human population – the ‘elephant in the room’. 

Is now not the time to energise this debate – to prioritise the quality of life for a sustainable population – rather than to maintain ever-rising numbers of humans? 

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Bereavement: the aftermath and practical steps to handle it

bereavement

A post about preparing for bereavement

Readers of this blog will recall my earlier posts about preparing for our own death, thinking about those left behind, and how some forethought can save our families much distress and perhaps conflict in the aftermath of our demise.

Would it be too much to suggest that we should take practical steps, not just for our own death, but to prepare for the death of a relative or loved one? At the risk of shocking you, I propose to do exactly that in this post, setting out simple but effective tried-and-tested steps that can make the process of bereavement more bearable that it otherwise would be.

No matter how we have prepared, the moment of a relative’s death comes as a paralysing shock. Emotions, good or bad, are in turmoil. It is not the time for clear thinking and decisive action.

That is why we should anticipate the event and plan for it.

The moment of death

Most deaths occur in hospitals, nursing homes, or at home, so I will focus on them. For those present at the deathbed, there are some simple steps that may be taken to make last moments more meaningful.

In the past, relatives would gather around the bed of a dying person with a prayer book, bible, rosary…and their supper. They prepared for the ‘long haul to an unknown moment’, sometimes for weeks on end.

Life and dying may now be more clinical, but not necessarily different. We still strive to be present when death occurs, not in the cafeteria or at the coffee machine. We want to have something to say, even if we cannot find the words.

Some preparation may be enormously helpful. I am not suggesting that tables of victuals and flagons of wine are laid out – but something to sustain the wait is essential. Pick up our relative’s favourite book and you certainly have something familiar to read to them. For those with smart phones, pre-load a simple, dignified group message to share the fact of death when it comes, without having to face its awful implication.

Immediately after someone dies

A home death is the greatest kindness for both the deceased and those attending them. Time is on your side. Relatives may come, go, or stay; so each is supported whilst simultaneously they can fulfill their own moment of bereavement. Hospitals and nursing homes are less tolerant, and relatives report pressure from staff for the deceased to be moved with final moments being snatched away by administrative imperatives.

It follows that such limited time must be used effectively. Following the moment of death, a professional carer spoke of the custom to open a window to allow the spirit to leave. This simple ritual of beauty served to elevate the moment. It was a wise use of time and imagination providing closure, and an enhanced lasting memory.

The practical steps

After peremptory moments of sympathy, ‘What is the name of the undertaker?’ is the first question that relatives are frequently asked by hospital bereavement staff or care home administrators. The bed needs to be vacated; visitors will be distressed; the mortuary or chapel of rest is full; release of the body must be authorised.

If no other preparations are to be made, an answer to this simple question is essential. How much better to have made contact with a chosen funeral director, spoken about proposed arrangements for burial or cremation, shared the personal details of the deceased, and provided advance authority to remove the body to their premises? All that is then needed is a digital copy of the Medical Certificate of Cause of Death which will have been completed by a clinician.

Bear in mind that during Covid-19, options are limited, ceremonies being limited. For those that have chosen the option of cremation, many are deferring their mourning to a time when ashes may be scattered at a family occasion unrestricted by lockdown, to be followed by a memorial gathering to include friends and associates.

Registering the death

Covid-19 has limited our access to Registry Offices, substituting a 30 minute telephone or online interview. Here the registrar will require particular information which can take effort to acquire. You might wish to note down answers to these details in advance of the appointment:

  • Copy Medical Certificate of Cause of Death (MCCD).
  • Date of death.
  • Place of death – the address including postcode or details of the hospital or nursing home. If in an ambulance, the locality of the vehicle when the death occurred and the intended destination.
  • Name by which the deceased was known as at the time of death, their maiden name, and any other name they may have used during their life.
  • Their gender.
  • Date of birth, and town and county of birth, preferably from copy birth certificate.
  • Occupation by way of trade, and whether working or retired.
  • Home address at which they lived before removal to hospital or care home.
  • Name and address of the care or nursing home where they lived before death.
  • NHS number (from their medical card), and National Insurance number.
  • Name, address, status and date of birth of next of kin.
  • Name, address and contact details of undertaker, and the location at which burial or cremation is to take place.

‘Tell us Once’

UK Government provides a service through which central and local authorities may be informed of a death. Other paid services are available, but I recommend the free portal here.

To access the service you will need the reference number on the death certificate. This will be provided by the registrar of deaths. Additionally, you should know the answer to the following questions:

  • Has the deceased filed a tax return in the last 12 months? If not, you may answer ‘NO’ to informing HM Revenue.
  • What state benefits, including state pension did the deceased claim or receive prior to their death?
  • Were they in receipt or eligible for a MOD pension or other payments?
  • Were they in receipt of local authority support from Adult Care or social services and the name of the providing council?
  • Did they use library services?
  • Did they have a license to drive, what is their driver number, did they have Blue Badge service?
  • Did they have a passport, and what is its number?

Bills, banking and utilities

Hopefully, in their lifetime the deceased will have read my previous post about the importance of making a Will and ‘Going Away Bag’, and shall have appointed executors to handle their financial affairs after their death.

However frequently a spouse or partner is left to pick up the pieces.

My advice for them is to copy or photograph the Death Certificate when it arrives, thus providing a digital copy that may accompany short covering letters informing private companies that are not covered by the ‘Tell Us Once’ scheme. Note that the banks operate a similar service here.

For survivors, there are significant advantages in digitizing. To do this using the latest copy of the utility bills – gas, electric, water, telephone and broadband, council tax – open an online account. Whether to relieve a surviving spouse or partner of bill management, or to facilitate before selling a house, this one step will provide quick, remote access to all of the routine tasks.

Food for thought

Collectively, we spend inordinate amounts of time anticipating life events that never happen. Death is the one inevitable event, and it is neglected when it comes to life planning. Perhaps that it is ‘not our problem’ is a reason….unless following the death of our own relative or loved one, it does fall to us to step up to the task?

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I’ve got to post a letter

post office

A post about the post. A light-hearted revisitation of an almost lost art

Do you recall the days when we used to post letters – and parcels?

In those days we would first sit at a desk and take out a pen. The nib might scratch the paper, so we would reach for the ink and revive it by dipping the point into the square-edged bottle. Once we had reached the end of the reverse page, we would cram in our ‘Yours Sincerely’ or ‘faithfully’ and sign our name, perhaps at a slight angle to make room for our middle initial.

Addressing the envelope was another essential ritual, directions for the postman – ‘Victory Cottage, (red door just past the little lane end) Didcot, Oxen’. Unless you had one of those fancy green sponges in a tin, our next task was to lick the flap of the envelope, tasting metallic glue, being careful not to cut our tongue, and to lick a stamp for the top right corner.

The letter was now complete. We might smooth it with our free hand, avoiding smudging the ink, and, putting on a hat and coat, we would set off for the Post Office.

The millennium reader doubtless does not know is what a Post Office. They still exist, but skill is needed to find one. Spot a ‘retired person’ and follow them.

No guide on posting a letter would be complete without a description of the inner workings of the Post Office. For that we researched our nearest branch, carrying an authentic parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied up with hessian string.

Headed by a large woman on a mobility scooter a queue lapped around the shop. “I’ve  not seen you here before”, said one old lady, “welcome to the club”, adding, “by jove, you two look far to young to be posting a parcel”.

Like Darby and Joan we joined those present and shuffled forward at the pace of a third world airport arrivals queue. Twenty minutes later we reached its head, followed by the sound of coughs and slippers.

“Next”, ordered the camp commandant, a young woman in her late 30’s, wearing a grey uniform with ‘Post Office’ printed on her lapel. We followed her, past equipment bearing an ‘out of order’ sign,  to a machine that was reminiscent an early wartime valve computer. “You will have to remove the string”, she ordered, “health and safety, didn’t you see the sign?”

“This is the only one working today” she continued, and looking at the stringless package, “now, where is it going?”.

We weighed the parcel to establish that it was in the ‘medium size’ category. The touch screen froze, and with a jerk our assistant pulled open and slammed a small door. “Usually it does that when the door is stuck”, she adds. “Now, see that label – stick it on the parcel and wait here”. Within minutes she returns with a spool of stickers. “You need one of these too, but this machine doesn’t dispense them, so we keep them in the back office”.

“Don’t forget your stamp…you mustn’t leave until you have affixed it. That will be £12.85, and it won’t take credit cards”.

Stephanie rummages in a purse that she has not opened for a year. “Oh, we only have £12.80”, she announces with dismay.

“Let me help”, interjects the old lady who welcomed us to the queue. “I always keep some loose change in my bag just in case”, she says with a smile. “You are one of us now”.

Post-office-queue-008

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Preparing for a good death

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A post about our own mortality, and where we might choose to spend our last days

I admit to some initial ambivalence about the title of this blog: can death ever been seen as ‘good’; and, should it creep up to overtake us, how can we realistically prepare for it?

Those that crave immortality may never embrace the concept of their death, seeing only darkness beyond or, at best, opaque light. It is hard to survive the deaths of others, let alone to face the finality of our own. If you are one of those readers, this blog is probably not for you – unless you wish to open your mind to this inevitable outcome of life.

In his recent TED lecture, B.J. Miller, palliative care physician and executive director of the San Francisco, nonprofit Zen Hospice Project spoke authoritatively about preparing for the end of life. His experience as a clinician is only overshadowed by his own history as a patient, 11,000 volts having arced through his body resulting in the loss of both legs and a left hand. Miller speaks of the moment when death approaches, at which we may have a choice to retain or forfeit the aesthetics of life. Here, tellingly for a clinician, he describes the way in which hospitals ‘assault our senses’ – ‘places for acute trauma and illness, not a place to live and die’. He refers to their sterile purpose and structure displacing art, music, sensory connection, silence, peace, sharing and compassionate caring.

Which brings me to the point of this blog. Where and how, given the choice, should we choose to die?

Miller and others warn of the ‘silver tsunami’ of an ageing western population inundating existing care and hospice provision. As individuals we may have made some forward planning for our own death; but as a society we have no concept of what will be adequate for the task.

ageing population

I speculate that it is not enough simply to build and equip more care and nursing homes. Currently that model is fatally flawed, for as soon as invasive medical care is needed, care homes call an ambulance to remove the resident to a hospital ward. The problem of end-of-life is displaced, maybe momentarily alleviated, but rarely resolved.

Our problem as ‘a society’ is our absence of end-of-life strategy. Formerly, as the patient grew weak, if terminal disease did not overcome them, a bacterial or viral infection such as pneumonia would expeditiously finish the task. Now, with antibiotics, drug and surgical interventions, the elderly and frail are kept alive irrespective of their quality of life, and occasionally beyond the point at which life can have meaningful value.

Compassion in Dying, a UK nonprofit organization has addressed some of the practical steps that individuals may take to determine their end-of-life experience. But as a society and species, whilst we have sought a degree of medical control, we lag way behind when it comes to systematic understanding of, and preparation for our death.

Perhaps Parliament should address this afresh. Here, I am not simply alluding to the issue of ‘assisted dying’ (a contentious question) but the whole spectrum of our social attitude to end-of-life issues – community provision, cultural questions, personal and financial preparation, medical priority, and the expectation of our health service personnel.

A starting point would be to cost the provision of unlimited geriatric care, and to examine the point at which medically, and artificially maintained existence extends beyond our social and personal expectations of reasonable quality of life?

Until we address these issues openly, I sense that we will simply continue to stagger the final furlong to the grave.

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Those that are left behind

death

A post that addresses forward planning as we age

This blog may be prematureor may be timely. We will never judge unless or until it is too late to know.

It arises from a sad event. A sudden bereavement. Not a personal event; but one witnessed. For the family affected, it was premature, unexpected, not forewarned and for which they were not prepared. One day – normality of existence; the next – emptiness, confusion and profound debilitating loss.

I know that some of my readers will already be preparing to close this page. Death and loss is not something that we wish to address. We know it will happen; but think ‘not now, let’s wait until then’.

But the moment when reality of loss dawns, bringing with it emotional and psychological challenges, is precisely the wrong time to cope with the weight of the practical issues that arise. Bereavement is unforgiving. Yet by conquering some of the practical problems, maybe we can better free ourselves to handle the emotional ones?

I will tell you two tales that illustrate the issue.

San Telmo by Night. Buenos Aires, Argentina

Vernon and Audrey danced tango. They planned the holiday of a lifetime in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Both in their late 50’s, they enjoyed fairly good health. During the second week they attended an open-air milonga – a social dance at which local people come together to dance Argentine tango. Towards the end of the third tanda, Vernon appeared to lose his footing. He fell to the ground. His heart had stopped; never to restart.  

John (featured in ‘Saving Lives at Sea’ Series 4 Episode 7: 50 mins time elapsed)  lived alone on an offshore island. His nephew discovered him on the floor of his cottage following a stroke. The nearest hospital was fifty miles away on the mainland and the air ambulance was mustered. John was hospitalised in Galway for four months, and moved to a nursing home from which he died three months later on his 83rd birthday. Afterwards his nephew reported that all John had wanted was ‘his own little life -very simple – his three cows – just his island’.

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The commonality of the two tales – is the missing meaningful conversation. John’s nephew had to make instant, uninformed decisions concerning his uncle’s final removal from his island, for which neither he nor John were prepared. Audrey found herself in a strange country, unable to communicate and without close friends or family to support her. Every question for both Audrey and John’s nephew was an insurmountable burden. 

Ideally the conversation should happen before the event, rather than following it. We need to prepare and be prepared to discuss our thoughts, needs, aspirations and desires. We need to know what to expect and what is expected. In short, we owe it to those that survive us to know what we would have wanted if only we had been asked.

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Tiny does not equal small

A post about our environmental footprint and how we can change it

You already know about my fascination with tiny homes, and here is a superb example brought to you again by Bryce Langston.

A regular comment is that tiny homes are just too small, but Marnie and Dan show just how to address quality and dimension within a limited space.

Their art seems to be to shed all that is no longer required; to make space for future needs. Marnie and Dan seem to have done this perfectly, creating a sustainable space, both practically and economically.

Perhaps the day of the brick and breeze block is almost over, giving way to sustainable adaptable modular living?

Whilst an advert may appear at the foot, this blog is neither monetarised, nor endorsing any product