Your Thoughts on Old Age and Death

The Italian climbing legend Reinhold Messner has called for Nepal to close access to Everest for a few years to allow the mountain to rest and recover, but Nepal has refused. The country collects $3.3m annually from climbing fees. Tens of thousands of Nepalese hotel owners, trekking guides and porters depend on these climbers for their livelihoods.

www.theguardian.com/...g-mount-everest

The Nepalese were charging climbers something like $25K per individual climbing permit. They've since slashed that to more than half this past year. It's now $11K and they did so to attract MORE climbers and generate more revenue.

Krakauer had written about the boom that was taking place in and around the area of Everest's base camp in a country that has a PPP of under $3K per capita. He wrote Into Thin AIr more than a decade ago. He and his climbing team and the general group whom they were sharing the mountain at the time when disaster struck were never attempted to be rescued. Doug Hansen, a postal worker who saved up for the $60K that his team charged for the expedition, perished as did so many more. They're all still on the mountain.

I lived in the same town for 20 years as the filmmaker David Brashear. I think he summited three times and he lugged a IMax camera to the top all the way. Without his images that highlighted just how much global warming had decimated the ice caps that feed the great Ganges and the millions of inhabitants who live along this river. It's why even PBS' Frontline featured Brashear in their episode "Climate of Doubt."

The issue that affect the locals is the one concerning the Sherpas. More than 20 died not too long ago and there's been a great deal of protest about how little they're paid and how little insurance companies pay off on their policies that involve Sherpas as opposed to the western climbers.

Now here is the thing, when I criticize and I urge someone to defend his or her belief, you call it jumping on people's throats, you call it being an asshole, lacking in humility, worse, that I am incapable of feeling human emotions or extend love, judging my relationship with other people. Now, a criticism from me nowhere resembles a direct attack on your overall integrity as human being, I do not have a problem with you as a person, if we ever meet, I'd treat you as I would treat any decent human being. I am criticizing the idea and the unwarranted belief it has extracted from you.

Now yes, I have retaliated to these attacks, When you see two people involved in a fistfight with each other, in a dark alley, you could immediately assume that one of them started the fight. I didn't, I started a battle of ideas, which is where my passion lies. But when a person, do not offer an argument, and resort immediately to hurt feelings and being a troll, and being terribly stupid. I have all the right to call that behavior out. If you cannot bear the idea of your beliefs being criticized, mocked when it deserves to be mocked, then do not participate at all.

And Tamm, Do not tell me to watch my words, you may be one of the moderators here, but you in no way have any authority over me, if you call out the words that may have been against the rules and regulations here, then you better start calling out the multitude of others of which I have merely responded to.


Now why do I participate in these discussion? Why do I call out bullshit? Why am I intolerant of it. Because I have the first hand experience of suffering from the results of seemingly harmless, benign and feel-good nonsense morphing into terribly bad ideas that manifest into violence, coercion and the abuse of the innocent. The sleep of reason brings forth monsters. I do not automatically respect beliefs, and as ridiculous ideas deserve to be ridiculed for intellectual integrity's sake, for honesty's sake, so you will see a lot of me in the future.

My Mom is recovering from her last chemo treatment and I'm sitting here in California with her now. I was here with her when we first learned she had cancer and the difference in her appearance now is so alarming. She doesn't look my Mom anymore. She is clearly in a lot of pain, but even through all of that she shines with life and the hope of recovery.

When she was really sick I had to help her to the bathroom, help her shower and even feed her. She's always been a very strong woman and I could tell that it was difficult for her to accept the help. I cracked jokes about how she wiped my bum and bathed me for years, so it was just my way of returning the favor. I tried to keep her laughing and told her how much I loved her. Before all this happened we had been a bit estranged and had a very complicated relationship. Caring for her, comforting her, rubbing her back while she threw up, brushing and braiding her wild hospital bed hair one more time before she lost it... All of this was heartbreaking, but also very precious and it changed the way we relate to one another. We let go of what kept us apart. To be that close to someone, to be there for them in their weakest and most vulnerable moments is an honor.

Illness and death are scary, but something very beautiful happens to people when they connect in those dark times. I've been the cancer patient near death in need of loving care and I have now been the caregiver for someone I love as well. I can honestly say that there is nothing in this world that has touched me as deeply or made me feel more human than those fragile mortal moments I have shared with people.

The closer I have come to death, the more I have loved life and the people I share it with. I am grateful to have experienced so much love and loss.

If someone is lucky, they die quickly and peacefully with their family and friends next to them. If not, then they die alone and probably in pain (even if they're in hospice, often times there's bad pain management).

I've seen patients who're close to dying gasping for air.

I've seen patients who take forever to deteriorate.

I've seen patients fighting a losing battle.

In the end, the best we can hope for is to die with dignity with the ones we care about next to us. That's really all we have.

kLPantera wrote: If someone is lucky, they die quickly and peacefully with their family and friends next to them. If not, then they die alone and probably in pain (even if they're in hospice, often times there's bad pain management).

I've seen patients who're close to dying gasping for air.

I've seen patients who take forever to deteriorate.

I've seen patients fighting a losing battle.

In the end, the best we can hope for is to die with dignity with the ones we care about next to us. That's really all we have.

We all die alone.

nanox wrote: My Mom is recovering from her last chemo treatment and I'm sitting here in California with her now. I was here with her when we first learned she had cancer and the difference in her appearance now is so alarming. She doesn't look my Mom anymore. She is clearly in a lot of pain, but even through all of that she shines with life and the hope of recovery.

When she was really sick I had to help her to the bathroom, help her shower and even feed her. She's always been a very strong woman and I could tell that it was difficult for her to accept the help. I cracked jokes about how she wiped my bum and bathed me for years, so it was just my way of returning the favor. I tried to keep her laughing and told her how much I loved her. Before all this happened we had been a bit estranged and had a very complicated relationship. Caring for her, comforting her, rubbing her back while she threw up, brushing and braiding her wild hospital bed hair one more time before she lost it... All of this was heartbreaking, but also very precious and it changed the way we relate to one another. We let go of what kept us apart. To be that close to someone, to be there for them in their weakest and most vulnerable moments is an honor.

Illness and death are scary, but something very beautiful happens to people when they connect in those dark times. I've been the cancer patient near death in need of loving care and I have now been the caregiver for someone I love as well. I can honestly say that there is nothing in this world that has touched me as deeply or made me feel more human than those fragile mortal moments I have shared with people.

The closer I have come to death, the more I have loved life and the people I share it with. I am grateful to have experienced so much love and loss.

Then that realization alone should have stopped you from being rash in suggesting that I have not shown love and not given comfort to my aging grandparents, that should have stopped you from suggesting that I have made them feel ashamed of themselves, cos no there is no way you could possibly know how much I cared and loved them when their children themselves have abandoned them. But it didn't.

nanox wrote:

kLPantera wrote: If someone is lucky, they die quickly and peacefully with their family and friends next to them. If not, then they die alone and probably in pain (even if they're in hospice, often times there's bad pain management).

I've seen patients who're close to dying gasping for air.

I've seen patients who take forever to deteriorate.

I've seen patients fighting a losing battle.

In the end, the best we can hope for is to die with dignity with the ones we care about next to us. That's really all we have.

We all die alone.

We walk through death alone, but that doesn't mean we have to leave this world alone (if we're lucky).

Psypsy wrote: Hey UltimateConrarian, I can sympathise with a lot of your critique and logic, and I don't disagree with the questions you ask, cos they seem legit. But dude, there's no need to jump at everyone's throats by responding in condescending manner that makes you seem like a belligerent dbag. If one wants to believe or have faith in something cos it provides them comfort - Good for them. No need to be judgmental and demoralising. Have a little faith man, you might live longer.

Anyways back on topic. Death is something we shouldn't fear, but most of people characterise it as negative, cos there is the element of uncertainty - and naturally people hate uncertainty. The very idea of value in life would not be true if death didn't exist. In the end, death is just like breathing, a natural part of life. A life cannot be considered a life without death.

peace

So I am sorry. I will remain as I am.

UltimateContrarian wrote:

nanox wrote: My Mom is recovering from her last chemo treatment and I'm sitting here in California with her now. I was here with her when we first learned she had cancer and the difference in her appearance now is so alarming. She doesn't look my Mom anymore. She is clearly in a lot of pain, but even through all of that she shines with life and the hope of recovery.

When she was really sick I had to help her to the bathroom, help her shower and even feed her. She's always been a very strong woman and I could tell that it was difficult for her to accept the help. I cracked jokes about how she wiped my bum and bathed me for years, so it was just my way of returning the favor. I tried to keep her laughing and told her how much I loved her. Before all this happened we had been a bit estranged and had a very complicated relationship. Caring for her, comforting her, rubbing her back while she threw up, brushing and braiding her wild hospital bed hair one more time before she lost it... All of this was heartbreaking, but also very precious and it changed the way we relate to one another. We let go of what kept us apart. To be that close to someone, to be there for them in their weakest and most vulnerable moments is an honor.

Illness and death are scary, but something very beautiful happens to people when they connect in those dark times. I've been the cancer patient near death in need of loving care and I have now been the caregiver for someone I love as well. I can honestly say that there is nothing in this world that has touched me as deeply or made me feel more human than those fragile mortal moments I have shared with people.

The closer I have come to death, the more I have loved life and the people I share it with. I am grateful to have experienced so much love and loss.

Then that realization alone should have stopped you from being rash in suggesting that I have not shown love and not given comfort to my aging grandparents, that should have stopped you from suggesting that I have made them feel ashamed of themselves, cos no there is no way you could possibly know how much I cared and loved them when their children themselves have abandoned them. But it didn't.

I read the way you described the experience (which was an incredibly negative interpretation) and asked you if you were sure you hadn't unconsciously expressed that feeling to them.

Our perception shapes our behavior and whether you know it or not, the feelings you try to hide from people show through in unconscious body language.

I didn't read you expressing your love for them. I read your own feelings of their degradation and fear of meeting the same fate.

Perhaps you just didn't communicate it well, but that's what you were communicating and I wasn't the only one who got the message.

I'm glad that isn't the case and that you were there for them, because I believe that it is worth doing and that everyone is worthy of being cared for in those moments. Even you.

kLPantera wrote:

nanox wrote:

kLPantera wrote: If someone is lucky, they die quickly and peacefully with their family and friends next to them. If not, then they die alone and probably in pain (even if they're in hospice, often times there's bad pain management).

I've seen patients who're close to dying gasping for air.

I've seen patients who take forever to deteriorate.

I've seen patients fighting a losing battle.

In the end, the best we can hope for is to die with dignity with the ones we care about next to us. That's really all we have.

We all die alone.

We walk through death alone, but that doesn't mean we have to leave this world alone (if we're lucky).

Yes, you're correct.

It would be nice to have a hand to hold in the final moment. Maybe even make you feel less alone.