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A Death Notice: Does knowing of a loved one's imminent death make it easier?
Journal Photo by Lauren Carroll
Doug Cherry, 75, has congestive heart failure, and doctors have told him that he may have no more than six months to live.
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Published: February 19, 2009
Doug Cherry was sitting in his living room with his sister, Diane Archer, and daughter, Melanie Cherry-Conklin. His dog, Hudson, was there, too. The conversation turned to the differences between expected and unexpected deaths.
Last month, Archer's husband had died unexpectedly.
"Her husband of 49 years died without notice," Cherry said. "That's more of a shocker.… I'm just the opposite."
Cherry, who turned 75 on Feb. 8, has congestive heart failure. His heart is unable to pump his blood with enough force to properly circulate through his body, and, in November 2006, doctors told him that he might have no more than six months to live. Since then, he has been a client of Hospice & Palliative CareCenter of Winston-Salem.
Because his daughter, sister and others have been put on notice, he said, his death should be easier for everyone to deal with.
"I think it's a false assumption," Cherry-Conklin said. "It's not going to be a shock, but it doesn't make it easier to deal with after the fact."
One thing that having time has enabled them to do is make sure that they aren't left with regrets about not having said everything they wanted -- or needed -- to say.
"There is nothing unsaid," Cherry-Conklin said.
Cherry agreed.
One of the goals of hospice is to help people die the way they want. With that in mind, hospice workers urge families to have the necessary documents in place to ensure that the dying person's wishes are carried out. Those documents include a health-care power-of-attorney, which designates a person to act as your agent if you are unable to speak for yourself.
For Cherry, his daughter is that person. As it happens, she is in agreement about everything he wants. Even if she weren't, she said, she would carry out his wishes.
"Before we even signed it, I made sure I knew his wishes," she said. "It's not about what I want. I want to do what my dad wants -- whatever that is."
For Cherry, that means dying at home, if possible, rather than in a hospital or in the Kate B. Reynolds Hospice Home. As to what sort of medical interventions Cherry wants, he has chosen a middle ground. In his chest is a combination pacemaker/defibrillator that shocks his heart when necessary. He could choose to have the defibrillator turned off. But as long as it can revive him and he can still be himself, he wants it to do that.
"I still value life," he said. "I will take the defibrillator."
What he doesn't want is to be brought back after there is brain damage. If the defibrillator doesn't work, he doesn't want medical workers trying something more, and he has posted a Do Not Resuscitate order on his refrigerator.
Although no amount of warning can let Cherry-Conklin know how she will feel once her father dies, she has had rehearsals for the moment of death. A couple of weeks ago, she and her husband, Joe, were sitting with her father in his kitchen when his head slumped forward.
Was this it?
No. The defibrillator revived him.
When Cherry dies, he wants his body cremated and to have a memorial service held in upstate New York, where Cherry is from and where Archer, Cherry's two sons and most of the rest of his family and friends still live. The music he has selected includes "Onward Christian Soldiers," "The Old Rugged Cross" and a song by country singer Marty Robbins.
He hopes that all in all, it will be an upbeat service. Cherry said he has found much to value in the philosophy of Norman Vincent Peale, who urged people to emphasize the positive, and he hopes that the service focuses not on the fact that he is gone but that on the fact that he had 75 years of life.
"You should celebrate life, not death," he said.
By no means was all the talk that morning somber.
Cherry continues to enjoy messing with people and cracking jokes. He passed up a chance to compliment his sister's cooking for a throwaway line about being willing to eat anything. And, in talking about the approach of death, he threw in a groaner about the leg he lost to his health woes six years ago.
"I'm on my last leg, as you can notice," he said.
Cherry has had lots of attention from family lately. His son, Frank, surprised him late last month by coming for a visit earlier than he had originally planned.
Because of his health, Cherry was unable to travel to the memorial service of his brother-in-law, Kingsland. When he invited his sister to come down, she liked the idea and brought her dog, Pita. She has been around for a couple of weeks. Hudson isn't quite sure what to do about a bossy Yorkie, but the visit has proved to be a boon for everyone else.
For Cherry-Conklin, the visit has allowed her to feel more at ease. Because she has work and other responsibilities, she cannot be with her father at all times. Now she knows that someone is always there.
"Having my aunt here is a huge help," she said.
For Archer, being here has helped her deal with her grief. In addition to the healing made possible by being with family, she has taken advantage of hospice's bereavement counseling, which is available to anyone in the community, even if the family was not working with hospice at the time of the person's death.
"The support I have gotten has been overwhelming, and I think that is very important when you lose someone you love," Archer said.
■ Kim Underwood can be reached at 727-7389 or at kunderwood@wsjournal.com.
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