Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Dallas ebola home of the 2nd

Dallas ebola home of the 2nd

Dallas ebola home of the 2nd

Posted: 15 Oct 2014 10:01 AM PDT

On skillman where the 2nd nurse lives.


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My #cnnireport story

Posted: 15 Oct 2014 07:24 AM PDT

Image submitted by @dj_jayspin
#nyc #nypix #nbc4ny #newyork #nyc_uncut #newyorkcity #nexlevelpix #nycprimeshot #nyc_uncut #iloveny #ilovenyc #HDR_PROFESSIONAL #ig_nycity #icapture_nyc #instagramnyc #IWANNABEHDRpVIP #wanderlust #whyilovenewyorkcity #dopeshotbro #exclusive_minds #thebronx #bronx #dabx

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Gathering in Causeway Bay

Posted: 15 Oct 2014 06:43 AM PDT

Crowded night in Causeway Bay on Hennessy Road near the entrance of SOGO department store: occupiers, volunteer lecturers, onlookers, tourists, policemen, and those who were simply passing by.

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Occupiers in Causeway Bay

Posted: 15 Oct 2014 06:22 AM PDT

Even as police removed a few blockades in Causeway Bay and opened a lane to allow buses to pass through, the occupiers are staying put in one of the busiest commercial areas in Hong Kong.

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Fall Forest

Posted: 14 Oct 2014 02:14 PM PDT

The Shenandoah National Park forest floor is covered in lovely fall foliage.

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My Thoughts on Dying With Dignity

Posted: 14 Oct 2014 12:38 PM PDT

As the daughter whose parents both had cancer, I have this to say about dying with dignity.

When I was eight in 1984, my mother was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer of the ovaries, uterus, ureters, small intestine, bladder and kidney. She was given six months to live. She refused to accept that and sought treatment in Tampa, Florida, some two hours north of our home in Fort Myers.

In 1986 she was diagnosed with a brain tumor.

For over three years she suffered. Her body was mangled from all the surgeries. She had to wear an ostomy bag and at nine years old, I learned how to change it because she was so weak. She had to give up her nursing career. She had to give up the fun things in life she enjoyed doing because her body couldn't take it. She no longer had the quality of life that she deserved.

In 1988 when she was well enough to be home full time, my parents separated and filed for divorce. Cancer broke their foundation of love and trust.

In 1992 she was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer and lost her breasts. The only part she felt still identified her as a woman was taken away. The same year my father was diagnosed with cancer on the brain stem. He died quickly, three weeks after his diagnosis. He just simply collapsed and died.

For years she suffered. It's hard watching your mother cry over the pain. It's hard watching your mother break down piece by piece. For years she fought a pain pill addiction. She wanted to live so she could raise her children but in reality, she spent her time in the hospitals, operating rooms and doctor's offices. Her hopes took a gross turn.

She suffered greatly for seventeen years until she was diagnosed in 2001 with cancer on her spine and then killed herself three days later.

The person who died was not my mother. She was not the mother who was funny, intelligent, strong and fierce. The person who died was sad and had lost all hope. My last memory of my mother is of this person. Lying on the bed with a bottle of pills next to her and her eyes half open. There is no justice in her lasting legacy. She deserved better. She deserved to go in a better, more dignified way.

Dying with dignity is more than just for the person who is dying. It's for their loved ones. If it meant my mother leaving this world the way she was in 1984 and not in 2001 then I would have supported her decision to do so, if she had the right to make that decision. My last memories of her should have been when she was still full of life on the outside, even though she was dying on the inside.

She chose to take her life anyway, except it was without her loved ones surrounding her saying their final words and making peace. She died alone. My sister found her. Her death was treated like a crime scene because she killed herself at home. There were no final words. No good-byes. Nothing but the unimaginable guilt I carry with me every day because maybe I could have done something better for her.

Some say she beat cancer. She was given six months to live but lived for seventeen years. But what kind of life was it? Was it a life worth living? She had so much to live for but at what cost?

What kind of life was it for her children? As one of them I can tell you it was hard. I was robbed of a childhood. It was years of struggles and tears. I would never wish what I had lived through on any child. No child should have to see their parents suffer so much. I'm happily married and have a four year old son. I would never want him to watch either one of his parents suffer. If a diagnosis is final and the options were there, I just may choose to die with dignity and end my life on my terms. If you have to explain death, how hard is it to include dying before the suffering becomes too great? Sure, the experiences built me up to be strong and be able to handle some serious stresses and in part has made me the person I am today but I would gladly trade it back if my mother could have done things her way, when she really should have.

It's not fair to throw stones at someone because they are through fighting. No one person or disease is the same so it's unfair to judge and compare. Just because a person decides they are done does not make them weak or selfish. To sum it all up, dying with dignity is a brave decision to make. It's a decision that involves everyone and it's one of the greatest gifts of love that person can give to those left behind.

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