The title says it all. The author says it well. I am just halfway through Atul Gawande's newest book, Being Mortal, and have a hard time putting it down.
Page-turners are (for me) most often mystery novels driven by the question, "Whodunnit?" Being Mortal offers a different kind of suspense. It begins with the inevitability of death. It unfolds with stories of people growing frail as bodies and minds fail. Then it digs deeper to show how medical systems fall short of our needs. I speed-read and skim, forging ahead, looking for the happy ending. There must be hope. A surgeon doesn't write a book to foster despair. Does he?
Last week we explored the possibility of taking measured risks, gaining confidence, and enjoying the world outside our comfort zone as we age. Helen Broomell canoed the Yukon alone at 66. The elder President Bush went skydiving on his 90th birthday. Their examples are extreme, but they point to the possibility that golden years can open rather than close the door to adventure. But what do they have to do with assisted living and the nursing home environment?
Being Mortal returns again and again to the theme of safety in care facilities. Nursing homes are designed to protect us from bodily harm. Buildings, systems, and rules confine us and reduce our options. They curtail our freedom for our own good. Dr. Gawande opens the window onto the view of a different way. He describes a model of eldercare that honors the drive for autonomy, promotes a sense of purpose, and celebrates life. And he tells us why it is so hard to manage such a model. He raises our hopes, then dashes them on the rocks. But I am not yet done with the book.
I do know, even halfway through, that the message rings true for me. It rings true for loved ones who are further along on the journey than I. Whether or not our system can deal with a bunch of wild old people plotting to escape (I see a movie plot in the making), we can acknowledge the dilemma. Faced with harsh realities, we can take small steps to infuse caution with adventure. We can create opportunities to honor and make room for autonomy at any age.
Where does the balance of safety with independence fall in your life? In the lives of your parents and their peers? What changes might enrich each day without adding too much danger to the scene?
