After a painful, nearly six year battle with intractable tick borne infection and young onset Alzheimer’s disease, I chose to die in my home this morning with a self-administered prescription drug overdose. I wanted to leave this world before the march of Alzheimer’s took away all of my joy. It was not “suicide” but rather a choice to die with some dignity.
I realize this may be a hard decision for some people to understand, that you may even find it immoral. My process has been so very similar to what happened with my beloved 17 year old dog… when her suffering became so great that the quality of her life was falling fast with no hope of improvement, it was the most loving choice I could make t give her a swift and painless death, surrounded by comfort and love. I am giving myself the same gift. I do not fear what comes next. I am so looking forward to being free of the pain, confusion, terror, and other symptoms of my disease.
At this point, I don’t get to choose whether I will die soon, but I was determined to choose as good a death as possible. There have already been times I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize the person looking back at me. There have been times that my sweet husband has woke me from a nap and I didn’t know who this man in my bedroom was and I felt terror. I am at the point where palliative care workers through Hospice come to my home to bathe and groom me. I wear adult diapers. I get lost and afraid if either my sweet husband, Jay, or my best friend, Connie are out of my line of sight, even in my own home. The trajectory of Alzheimer’s means I will soon require a person to feed me and know that I would be likely to aspirate food into my lugs. I am likely to die of starvation or dehydration because I forget how to eat and drink and no longer have the motor ability to do anything it. I am likely to hurt myself or someone else because I don’t have the ability to make reasonable decisions. Staying on earth now means I am guaranteed to die after burning through all of the social, family, and financial resources, leaving my very much loved husband both heartbroken and poor. I would become a shell of myself, perhaps falling into the common behavioral issues of constant sobbing, violence toward others, and eventual emptiness. I am not willing to let that be the end of what has been a beautiful life.
As many of you know, I had an extremely difficult childhood. I was the victim of severe neglect and abuse in my family of origin, resulting in emotional and physical challenges throughout my life. I spent much of my childhood in foster care, kinship care, shelters, and group homes. I spent most of my teen life as a runaway, doing whatever it took to survive, then as a ward of the juvenile justice system in detention, hospitals, and state reform school. Along the way, my excellent taste in people allowed me to recruit friends, staff members, and other mentors to tether me to my very uncertain and frightening world, finding the beauty that I had been missing. At 16, I entered my final foster home with the Stenslies, whose last name I eventually legally claimed. They taught me that I could be my own boss and advocate. They opened my eyes to the idea of college and an entirely different kind of adulthood than I had ever envisioned before them. Their three adult children claimed me and have continued to be very important to me over the years. They helped me figure out how to have genuine relationships and as a result, I found excellent friends in high school (both at the state reform school and finally at Mandan High School) who continue to be important to me.
I have truly excellent taste in people. It’s probably my favorite thing about myself and is the thing that has made my life happy, interesting, and so worth living.
I was blessed with 12 years of marriage to my very beloved husband, Jay; where we fit in at least 50 years of happiness. Every kiss still makes me feel weak at the knees. I still feel excitement when I see his name pop up on the caller ID. He has dedicated himself to caring for me with gentleness, compassion, and grace. He is a recognized master gift giver. He has made all the little moments special. He is smart, wickedly funny, and strong in every way. We are the perfect balance for each other. I am the peanut butter to his jelly. Jay makes me feel cherished, and most of all, precious.
I was also blessed with many beautiful and special friendships. Connie Connor, who is my best friend of my whole life. We are so very different, but somehow compliment each other so well. Through Con, I got to be a part of the whole Connor/Wheeler clan, kids to love and watch grow up and show up for. Because of Jay, Connie, and other near loved ones, I had the honor of sharing love so broadly. Through Sue, Marnie, Fej, and Eric (friends of 20+ years,) I learned the true meaning of family, commitment, and unconditional love.
My life was so positively impacted by the entire Claassen family, the Franko family, the Stenslie family, my groups of friends in the Fargo-Moorhead and Seattle areas, and my work families from Foster Care of America, PATH-ND, and the Casey Family programs. I want to send a special recognition to the countless alumni of foster care whom I always thought of as extended family members. I was a proud foster parents and had a lifetime commitment to my foster children (now adults) Tomikia, Chris, and Sean. I am surrounded by love and I leave this world in peace.
Owner/Editor - Chris Chmielewski