De Gustibus Non Est Disputandem
The word came quickly that he had six weeks to live. He just woke up with a splitting headache and blurry vision on a Tuesday, a Tuesday like any other Tuesday. Went to the doctor, had a test or two, and WHOOMP! there was an inoperable tumor the size of a golf ball in his noggin.
The doctors said he would have about two or three weeks during which he could walk around and more or less function normally and then he would be put out of commission by the effects of the morphine and the lack of oxygen needed for his vital brain functions. Most anyone would start praying or go sky diving, but this gentleman had a very different plan. Since he could not travel to see the world due to the short amount of time left, the estate planning paperwork to be done and the final goodbyes to family and friends to be said, he instead chose to taste the world. Yes, he would literally eat until he died.
With a globe as his guide and a close friend as chauffeur, he began to sample cuisines from over thirty countries. Most of the food came from restaurants located in out-of-the-way places that he had always wanted to try, but much of the food also came from complete strangers who had heard of his plight.
He did not suffer too much nausea as chemotherapy really was not an option at this point, but he was quite drowsy and lacked appetite much of the time. This did not stop him from sampling the fiery foods of Cambodia and Laos or the butter-rich baked goods of Finland. Even in the very last days when his consciousness was only fleeting, his family brought him his favorite foods just so the aroma of boeuf bourguignon or garlic mashed potatoes could comfort him. He died as he wanted, sampling the world through its foods.
How will you die? I don't mean 'hit by a bus', 'cancer' or a 'heart attack just like my father' - that's all so pedestrian. The reaper will take each of us one way or another. I mean what's your taste in dying? Will you surround yourself with symphonies and hear the angels as you drift off? Face the bull and jump from the plane like Tug McGraw? Or, just sit quietly holding the hand of the one you love?
In my work as an elder law lawyer I am often one of the last people, outside of medical workers and family, that clients see before they die. For the first years of my practice I soberly played my role as "the lawyer" with my dark suit, briefcase and methodical manner; but now, now I try to engage my clients with the notion that although life will continue on without them, they can be at peace knowing that they have done what they can to protect their loved ones. I've warmed up to embracing, or at least touching, my dying clients as I leave their bedsides with their affairs in order. I whisper my last words into their ears, inaudible to their families, "Everything is in order, don't worry". For better or worse, many of my very sick clients leave this world shortly thereafter.
Take a moment and think about hearing that you only have weeks to live. Have that bag packed in your mind. Have your affairs in order. It will let you taste the last bits of life instead of wasting precious time deciding what to pack.
The doctors said he would have about two or three weeks during which he could walk around and more or less function normally and then he would be put out of commission by the effects of the morphine and the lack of oxygen needed for his vital brain functions. Most anyone would start praying or go sky diving, but this gentleman had a very different plan. Since he could not travel to see the world due to the short amount of time left, the estate planning paperwork to be done and the final goodbyes to family and friends to be said, he instead chose to taste the world. Yes, he would literally eat until he died.
With a globe as his guide and a close friend as chauffeur, he began to sample cuisines from over thirty countries. Most of the food came from restaurants located in out-of-the-way places that he had always wanted to try, but much of the food also came from complete strangers who had heard of his plight.
He did not suffer too much nausea as chemotherapy really was not an option at this point, but he was quite drowsy and lacked appetite much of the time. This did not stop him from sampling the fiery foods of Cambodia and Laos or the butter-rich baked goods of Finland. Even in the very last days when his consciousness was only fleeting, his family brought him his favorite foods just so the aroma of boeuf bourguignon or garlic mashed potatoes could comfort him. He died as he wanted, sampling the world through its foods.
How will you die? I don't mean 'hit by a bus', 'cancer' or a 'heart attack just like my father' - that's all so pedestrian. The reaper will take each of us one way or another. I mean what's your taste in dying? Will you surround yourself with symphonies and hear the angels as you drift off? Face the bull and jump from the plane like Tug McGraw? Or, just sit quietly holding the hand of the one you love?
In my work as an elder law lawyer I am often one of the last people, outside of medical workers and family, that clients see before they die. For the first years of my practice I soberly played my role as "the lawyer" with my dark suit, briefcase and methodical manner; but now, now I try to engage my clients with the notion that although life will continue on without them, they can be at peace knowing that they have done what they can to protect their loved ones. I've warmed up to embracing, or at least touching, my dying clients as I leave their bedsides with their affairs in order. I whisper my last words into their ears, inaudible to their families, "Everything is in order, don't worry". For better or worse, many of my very sick clients leave this world shortly thereafter.
Take a moment and think about hearing that you only have weeks to live. Have that bag packed in your mind. Have your affairs in order. It will let you taste the last bits of life instead of wasting precious time deciding what to pack.
