Modern hospitals are far from an ideal place to be if one has a terminal illness. They are antiseptic, literally anti-aesthetic. From my experience, the people I've known that had a terminal illness yet received extensive care up until the moment of death did not really want to receive further treatment because they understood that death was coming and would have rather died in their home or gone on one last vacation. The treatments were painful and left them barely conscious of their surroundings.
The demands that some families make can be selfish. The infirmed that I knew only went through with these treatments for the sake of their family to give them some sense of false hope, that they'd never give up fighting. It's sad to watch as I think a happier outcome could be achieved if we learn to accept the imminent fate and enjoy the precious time that is left, having the last moments with a loved one be a joyous time to cherish.
From the beeping and humming of numerous machines, the drab, monochrome interiors to the lack of windows. A patient's well being has an effect on their recovery. They would greatly benefit from a redesigned concept with this well being as one of the focal points.
If anyone is interested, here is a talk on how we can improve end of life care. It is without doubt the most inspiring and powerful presentation I've ever seen at TED.
https://www.ted.com/talks/bj_miller_what_really_matters_at_t....
I think it was this you wanted to link to: https://www.ted.com/talks/bj_miller_what_really_matters_at_t...
EDIT: Just finished watching it, it's really a great talk and I found it touching, quite rare for the cynical individual that I am. The frankness and honesty of looking at things was moving.
Most religions, and all the major ones, do the opposite of that.
I guess it's true in a sense (see: Vanitas art) but usually in the service of deflecting the idea that we actually end. Less "how can anything in this life be important when you stop existing?" and more "how can anything in this life be important when there's an eternity of unimaginable bliss and continued, but changed, eternal life ahead?"
The point of much religion is that there isn't an end, in a very real not-metaphorical sense, which makes death qualitatively different than if there is.
I lost a close friend recently and another is terminally ill. The most we can do is be with them in the moment as much as possible, but it is curious to me how my mind doesn't want to go to thinking about myself in that state one day.
I don't think that's true. Our experiences with death, whether it comes from others dying or us having a close call, forces us to contemplate our own end. Memento mori and all that.
Most people are ok with not existing. It's the dying part that is tough to deal with.
Is that true? I find it almost impossible to really even think about. It makes me feel like I'm falling down a well, and the fully-realized concept of non-existence is the sides, and my mind is scrambling against it but just can't quite grab ahold, but gradually becomes more disturbed and my stomach sinks further from the falling the longer I try. It's full-on Lovecraftian/Cosmic horror.
And I think I'm relatively well-adjusted and accepting-of/content-with reality on that front, for a non-religious.
[EDIT] minor grammar fix
I want nothing more than to never cease being, to never stop learning and experiencing and seeing how the world and I change, and the knowledge that one day I'll stop fills me with intense dread and sadness. It's utterly egotistical, but I don't want there to ever be a time where I don't exist. Which is ridiculous, because I didn't exist for the huge of time, but now that I'm here, I really don't want to stop being. The idea that instead of moving on or experiencing something new I'll experience nothing, and I'll never come back from it, never get a chance to experience anything ever again, is horrifying.
I had a very close friend who was deeply interested in spirituality and philosophy and who devoted a good part of his life to understanding our existence. Nothing prepared him for the painful cancer death experiences he endured. Intellectual perceptions are nothing against our first and only viceral experiences of death....
Religion doesn't do that. Philosophy and thinking does. Religion does the opposite of what you claim. It teaches us to ignore death because there is an afterlife, etc.
The treatment got more aggressive as the day neared; we were shuttling to and from the hospital every week, and towards the end my extended family of around twenty people were staying at and near the hospital for three weeks.
He was intubated after both lungs failed. We didn't know what it really meant - a few family members wanted the doctors to "do all they can" and so they obliged. He was under tremendous pain, and went through multiple radiations, and then was intubated for about a week. It was pointless because the lungs simply weren't going to come back. But the patient nor the family was ready to acknowledge the inevitability of the situation and so we went ahead with it, and he was intubated, and we all waited.
Intubation puts the onus of the big decision on the caretakers. Medical care can prolong the state of coma for quite a long time with artificial respiration - the bills simply accumulate, the patient prolongs their extreme suffering, and the entire family waits in extreme agitation and anxiety. The laws concerning removing intubation and thus letting go the patient seemed to be murky in India, and so (or for the money) the doctors were reluctant to move to palliative care, and the caretakers weren't ready to carry the responsibility of forcing the decision.
I now know that in my terminal condition I do not want to be intubated. I also know that death is a taboo and it takes a certain kind of philosophical wisdom to think and speak about it. I value that a lot now, and as someone else recommended Atul Gawande's Being Mortal should be read by anyone who might die.