Ryan, I forwarded this piece to my husband. I have been (half) jokingly calling him a death doula as he has been a steadfast presence at the side of several dying friends recently. He has been a great comfort to his mates - and their families - as you say, at a time when many people stay away as they can't stand in the presence of death. It IS hard. It weighs heavily on him sometimes. BUT...he is also someone who doesn't mind staring down death being, amongst other things, an ocean racing sailor. And he has enormous admiration for arctic explorers and the early mountaineers for their toughness. I feel as though this piece was written just for him at a time when he needs it. Thank you. I love reading your newsletters (for want of a better word) - they are thoughtful and provocative and seem to talk to our lives as they are right now.
Hi Donna, thanks for sharing your story. It sounds like your husband is doing an amazing job supporting his friends and families. I hope this article helps him in that process. All the best, Ryan
That was a provocative read, Ryan. The climbing story reminded me of a free cliff climb I did when I was in my early 20's. It was exhilarating and scary and when I got to the top, I felt very alive. I had no skills in climbing. I was wearing kung fu shoes, which gave me good feel. I could have easily fallen, and would probably not have survived if I did fall. When I got to the top of the cliff, which was a sea cliff wall, I arrived at farm land and a huge bull came to meet me. It was getting aggressive and there was no way it was going to let me onto the paddock, I was planning to use, to walk about 5km back to where I had been camping. I had no choice but to climb back down. Climbing down a high cliff, when you can't see where you are going, where to put your feet, is much more difficult to climbing up. I knew there was nobody that was going to be able to rescue me, at least for many hours, if I could hold on that long and someone randomly saw me. Clearly I made it down. I was on a high for a few days after doing it. No comparison to climbing a mountain, but certainly a visceral way of enjoying a moment in time.
Hi Luigi, well it sounds like Mallory had it easy! Definitely didn't have any bulls to worry about up there on Everest! Thanks for reading and sharing your story. Glad you made it back down!
Ryan, I forwarded this piece to my husband. I have been (half) jokingly calling him a death doula as he has been a steadfast presence at the side of several dying friends recently. He has been a great comfort to his mates - and their families - as you say, at a time when many people stay away as they can't stand in the presence of death. It IS hard. It weighs heavily on him sometimes. BUT...he is also someone who doesn't mind staring down death being, amongst other things, an ocean racing sailor. And he has enormous admiration for arctic explorers and the early mountaineers for their toughness. I feel as though this piece was written just for him at a time when he needs it. Thank you. I love reading your newsletters (for want of a better word) - they are thoughtful and provocative and seem to talk to our lives as they are right now.
Hi Donna, thanks for sharing your story. It sounds like your husband is doing an amazing job supporting his friends and families. I hope this article helps him in that process. All the best, Ryan
Thank you again from a palliative care nurse . Bron
Thanks for reading Bron.
Good stuff, here’s to facing death with humor
Thanks Tom.
That was a provocative read, Ryan. The climbing story reminded me of a free cliff climb I did when I was in my early 20's. It was exhilarating and scary and when I got to the top, I felt very alive. I had no skills in climbing. I was wearing kung fu shoes, which gave me good feel. I could have easily fallen, and would probably not have survived if I did fall. When I got to the top of the cliff, which was a sea cliff wall, I arrived at farm land and a huge bull came to meet me. It was getting aggressive and there was no way it was going to let me onto the paddock, I was planning to use, to walk about 5km back to where I had been camping. I had no choice but to climb back down. Climbing down a high cliff, when you can't see where you are going, where to put your feet, is much more difficult to climbing up. I knew there was nobody that was going to be able to rescue me, at least for many hours, if I could hold on that long and someone randomly saw me. Clearly I made it down. I was on a high for a few days after doing it. No comparison to climbing a mountain, but certainly a visceral way of enjoying a moment in time.
Hi Luigi, well it sounds like Mallory had it easy! Definitely didn't have any bulls to worry about up there on Everest! Thanks for reading and sharing your story. Glad you made it back down!
Me too haha. I can just imagine getting to the top of Everest and meeting a yak :D