…the silk curtains are up, and there’s music playing. The lighting is my lighting. Moody. The wind, the one that seems to have been following me from continent to continent has finally found me again. Occasionally the curtains dance. I feel like myself again.
There’s another terrible story in the news concerning a fight on advanced directives. The wife and doctors say one thing, the terribly religious parents say another. Monsieur de la J. told me that in France a public statement of intent, or a handwritten letter, would have avoided the entire mess. So here’s mine:
I, in the event of a contretemps,Β refuse any and all means of being kept alive artificially. Thus far I’ve had a most spectacular time and I refuse to have that tarnished by anyone else’s egocentrism. I don’t want to be filmed drooling or have a fool trying to make my eyes follow a balloon. The only person I trust to make any decision regarding my health is Mike Gwilym. A handwritten and signed copy of this note can be found in my safe, in my house at 42 Rue de Strasbourg.
Yours truly,
E.
The only thing missing from that photo is how the room smells. It looks wonderful. I can easily see two fingers following two more sitting there on a cool summer evening.
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The smell is jasmine. The pots are in the sun during the day, but I move them in at night. As I said, I’m myself again π
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Lovely. I’m glad you’re back!
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Best lodge it with your notaire and make sure that those who need to know know where it is.
If you trust your notaire, that is…
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Now YOU know where it is, so there. If I ever come up in the news, you know what to do! π
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You can count on me to take a cricket bat to any naysayers…
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Merci, Madame
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Looks lovely. Absolutely lovely.
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Why thank you π Since last December so much has been happening, it wasn’t feeling like ‘my’ life. Everything was half improvised, I couldn’t cook, we had nearly no furniture. It was like being on vacation, but an unpleasant one that involved cleaning floors and bathrooms. Last night I walked into the grey salon and had the distinct impression it was ‘my’ room.
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Oh… just oh, Pinky. Lush, sensual, glorious. Welcome back, and may you not need that letter for a very long time to come. -hugs-
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You never know. At 21 I had a bad car accident, spent a week in a coma. All it takes is a tumble down the stairs. I want to make absolutely sure that if I’m brain dead, no machines. no feeding tube, nothing.
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Ah…yes, that is different. π¦
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I love high ceilings. The Brady Bunch house we bought doesn’t have them. In fact they’re not even the standard 9′. What was I thinking?!? But I do love my house. Just not as much as yours!
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What sort of climate do you live in? Low ceilings are a huge advantage where there are cold winters. Heating this house will not be cheap…
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I live in South Georgia in the U.S. We have about three months of mild temps. It may get down to freezing temps a handful of days. The other nine months? Feels like we died and went to hell. It’s been 90Β°+ since the beginning if April.
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Couldn’t agree with you more. If there’s a switch, throw it. Waste not a second.
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The room looks stunning. Having the French Windows open to allow the scent in on a balmy evening is just too glorious, almost from a different time. You ARE back and what a delight that is.
I’m really annoyed ( you can change that wording and a few expletives to your heart’s content) that the people make heir will known and yet the Government can still decide they know what’s best for us.They are public servants who appear to have forgotten their role. I would not want my life extended by artificial means when recovery is not an option. As I’m not religious I see no reason why a religious group should have any say in my life or death.
Another thing which has me cross ( same rules apply) is the Government’s sell off of the Post Office in the UK. This is a service owned by the public, paid for by public funds. The Country wants it to remain in Government hands ( how ridiculous) and not be sold off to private enterprise, possibly putting people’s livelihoods at risk. Do the Government listen to the people? Not a chance. They ride roughshod over our wishes. I think at the end of this term the Tories will not be seen in Government for a long time and David Cameron may become just as reviled as Tony Blair.
Hugs
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Dave, I do believe it is The Royal Mail that is being sold off and not The Post Office; ‘though your argument still applies, of course. I hope you are right about the Tories; I really do. Cheers, Hariod.
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I don’t know about the note. You would make a wonderful locked-in, dictating a book with your eyelid.
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Pure evil π How do I make a complaint to Quaker customer service? My Quaker is broken.
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I intend to copy that note and just change names on it.
The rooms looks spectacular, and the lighting is truly moody
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All about curtains.
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When my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s I became her guardian. At the lawyer’s advice, we filled out an Advance Directive form, and I was aghast at her answers. Yes to everything, though she had ALWAYS expressed “NO” to “heroic measures”. It was one way I knew the disease had indeed grabbed her. Luckily I found an earlier Directive she had signed when in her right mind, and quietly destroyed the later one.
Mr.M, fill out a boiler-plate form, and have Mike do so, too – as extra assurance. In case your non-self cleaning oven blows up and takes you both out at a stroke.;)
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Mike’s mother moved in with us when her mind started to go. In her case it was vascular dementia, which in some ways is similar to Alzheimer’s. Caring for her made me acutely aware that I don’t want to go through that. Her last couple of months had to be in a specialized care home as she could no longer walk… and so my days were filled with having long and strange conversations with the other residents- I don’t have to tell you how heartbreaking an experience that is.
That’s why if I ever get a dementia diagnosis, I’ll be on the first plane to Dignitas in Switzerland. No waiting, no dilly-dallying.
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My Dad had mild, non-Alzheimer’s dementia and lived with us until the last six weeks of his life [he died in hospital]. I can’t say that’s how I want to go, but I know he found satisfaction in most of his days, and sometimes there was even joy. My take on death is that I want to live whilst I can find one happy thing in every day. I just wish the world would respect our right to decide what to do when that one happy thing is gone.
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It’s fantastic when people can manage to go through those things without being in constant anguish. Fortunately that was also the case for Mike’s mother- but I did see quite a few that were suffering terribly. There was a woman who, like a broken record, wailed for help. It was haunting. The problem is the clinics will only take a person while they’re still fully conscious of their actions, so I personally wouldn’t want to flip a coin.
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-shudder- I visited someone in one of those places just last Christmas. Warehouses for the dying. Horrible.
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I adore Jasmine as well. We have it planted at several places around the garden and they are about to bloom for winter.
As the Stones sang …. flip the switch.
As far as wind goes.
Better a continent wind than an incontinent one.
π
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Beautiful room! As for Advanced Directives. They are vitally important. In California once feeding tubes and other ‘heroic’ life prolonging efforts have been established, it is damn near impossible to have them removed at a later date.
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