Many years ago, as a young undergrad, I ambushed Oliver Sacks right after he finished addressing a Music Therapy conference. I asked if I could run an idea by him, he said we could talk while he walked to his car. I explained my hypothesis of a potential cause of neurodegenerative diseases. He listened patiently then said "I have similar thoughts, the challenge is proving it". Then, just before stepping into his car, he said "If you are right, and can prove it, you would win the Nobel Prize. Good luck, young man." I doubt he remembers this conversation, but for me it was an amazing experience I will never forget. The lab I worked in wasn't equipped to study the idea, and I became the lab computer guy instead of a neuroscientist. But I am still grateful to the confidence given me in that short conversation.
Anyone who is even remotely interested in end of life issues, and anyone who is a physician, should really read Atul Gawandes Being Mortal. Many people are unable to live their lives out the way Dr Sacks hopes to, simply because the medical establishment as is doesn't really allow for it.
The best takeaway from this essay is that, in the end, you have to focus entirely on things that matter to you most. But you should also be clear on this with your treating providers - so at the end you are spending time with your loved ones, and not going in and out of the hospital.
"I have been a sentient being, a thinking animal, on this beautiful planet, and that in itself has been an enormous privilege and adventure."<p>Beautiful.
Please, if anyone else reading this has the same cancer, do not listen to any medical professional saying to lay back and die. Sacks was, lucky if it can be called that, to have the less aggressive strain of Ocular Melanoma that metastasized. The most aggressive usually results in death in 18 months, but there is progress being made to extend this to 4 years. Look up Dr Sato of Thomas Jefferson. He's the expert on this cancer. Your loved ones will be extremely grateful for an extra 2 years with you, and the best treatments barely degrade the quality of your life at all.
If you are reading that and discovering Oliver Sacks for the first time, or just haven't read any of his books, may I recommend that you get a copy of Uncle Tungsten? It's wonderful memoir of growing up in London and a history of chemistry.
<i>I feel intensely alive, and I want and hope in the time that remains to deepen my friendships, to say farewell to those I love, to write more, to travel if I have the strength, to achieve new levels of understanding and insight...I feel a sudden clear focus and perspective. There is no time for anything inessential. I must focus on myself, my work and my friends. I shall no longer look at “NewsHour” every night. I shall no longer pay any attention to politics or arguments about global warming.</i><p>Great advice for everyone. We are all dying. The magnitude of our vectors may be different, but the direction is always the same.
The first book I ever bought the woman who became my beautiful wife was Sacks's <i>The Man who Mistook his Wife for a Hat</i>. She had mentioned enjoying some Psychology studies, so it seemed relevant.<p>His writing then, as now, leaps off the page and dances with your mind. Sadly, we will soon lose any possible new writing, and joyously he leaves a lifetime of work as a legacy.
I should write a note for my wife and children in case an accident happens, so I can express to them how happy a life I've had with them, even if I died before realizing my dreams.
<i>I have been increasingly conscious, for the last 10 years or so, of deaths among my contemporaries.</i><p>I am about half the age of Oliver Sacks. In the past year I've gone to two funerals for people younger than I am. It's a very poignant reminder of your own mortality when people your age or younger pass away.
It's a beautiful essay, and I don't mean to undermine its gravity but one thing he mentioned has me curious. How does one conclude that two tumors are related? Might it be that the cancer that metastasized in his liver is independent of that that was in his eye?<p>He <i>is</i> a neurologist, I am not intending to challenge, just curious and I know there are people here that know much more than I do.
This article reminds me of an incredibly beautiful one by Christopher Hitchens called "Unspoken Truths"<p><a href="http://www.vanityfair.com/news/2011/06/christopher-hitchens-unspoken-truths-201106" rel="nofollow">http://www.vanityfair.com/news/2011/06/christopher-hitchens-...</a>
This seems like a perfect opportunity to share some more reflections on death from those who are often closest to it, doctors themselves. It appears that many (most?) doctors choose to spend their final days differently than most of their patients.<p><a href="http://www.zocalopublicsquare.org/2011/11/30/how-doctors-die/ideas/nexus/" rel="nofollow">http://www.zocalopublicsquare.org/2011/11/30/how-doctors-die...</a><p><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/11/20/your-money/how-doctors-die.html" rel="nofollow">http://www.nytimes.com/2013/11/20/your-money/how-doctors-die...</a>
Anything that is related to death and uncertainty in general kindles lot of thought in one's mind. I for one, have always considered it to be a great interest to read about them. Here is a prose, written roughly 2000 years ago, dealing with death. It compares death to a sinking ship in a calm deserted ocean (contrast to violent shipwreck). Death engulfs the old ship very slowly.<p>Translation:
The bonds of friendship are broken, friends, relatives and wive have become cold in love, or few, the cords of love are loosened. Consider the matter well. What profit is there in the attached state? Oh, it is come, the wail of distress, as when a ship founders!<p>See: <a href="http://www.tamilvu.org/library/l2800/html/l2800ind.htm" rel="nofollow">http://www.tamilvu.org/library/l2800/html/l2800ind.htm</a> for original text.
> This is not indifference but detachment — I still care deeply about the Middle East, about global warming, about growing inequality, but these are no longer my business; they belong to the future.<p>This quote sticks out to me, I feel everyone acts, by and large, like this towards these issues (or most issues) regardless of age or health. Probably my pessimistic view of the world, very interesting to read from him.
One of the great sages of the world soon to leave us. I love his writing and the different perspectives that his work has offered me. He'll be missed and as bad as this sounds I'm excited to see what writings he comes up with as he takes the final steps of his journey.
Most of his reflections on how to live with terminal illness seem like a fulfilling way to embrace life at any time. Funny how our focus has to be retrained so often on the things we already know are the most important.