My Friend Diane

More than anything, my friend, Diane, valued her independence…

At the age of 25 she moved to Alaska, built her own cabin and began a family. After a fulfilling life as mother and partner, she retired, with her dog and two cats, to a cabin in Haines which she had designed and constructed herself. Diane put in a fabulous garden, raised ducks, shared her bounty and volunteered regularly in the community. Then she got sick. Then sicker and sicker. She was diagnosed with Restless Leg Syndrome and suffered from a lack of sleep for many years. She began to fall and was unable to enunciate clearly at her weekly singing engagement with children, causing her to slowly and shamefully withdraw from her volunteer work and leadership activities in the community. After several years, Diane was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease and was relieved to finally know what was happening to her. However, as time passed, she did not respond to Parkinson’s medications and suffered from additional symptoms.  She fell frequently, had trouble swallowing her food, and could no longer care for herself. She kept losing more and more of her physical abilities, eventually needing help to dress. Finally, a neurologist in Seattle correctly diagnosed her with Progressive Supranuclear Palsy, a rare, degenerative disorder that affects movement, balance, and eye movements. The disease’s cause is unknown.  Her mind remained clear; she was aware that the prognosis was a slow and painful death. She knew in her bones that she wanted to be in charge of when and how to end her suffering. She was grateful for all life had given her, especially kids and grandkids.  

If only Diane could have stayed in wild Alaska in her beloved cabin in her own bed and been able to decide when she would close her eyes forever.  Instead, her daughter came to Haines to help her take the ferry to Juneau and board a plane for Seattle. Diane took to bed in a spare room in her brother’s house. She missed Alaska; it called to her. She had made her home there for over 40 years. Her life ahead would be filled with pain, and an increasing level of dependence, which she feared most of all. With encouragement from her palliative care physician, her neurologist agreed to prescribe the drugs for her to end her suffering. She  had to wait out the three months to declare residency before finally finding peace.  January 29 was the date she told her kids to be there. At her side, they watched her take the drugs, close her eyes and find peace.

All so not fair!  If only Diane could have stayed in her cozy cabin in the Alaska woods. Let’s give others that right.

-Joyanne Bloom