Don't Curse the Nurse!

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Picking My Plot – No, not that kind.

on February 3, 2017

I got an invitation in the mail to plan my burial. You know, one of those things. The card had a glossy finish, discrete, but classy chestnut brown and dark gold background, the font, italic. Dinner included – at Red Lobster.

When I opened the envelope, I was thrown at first. Baldwin Fairchild did the mail out. I had no spouse in Hospice. My parents — alive and kicking, out daily, hobbies, traveling, yada yada.

I’ve seen something similar to this, except it was for future planning, investing, IRA’s. So into planning my financial future, yes I am, but do I get one of those in the mail like my parents…


I get an invitation to decide if I want cremation or an open viewing, a mahogany or a pine casket; burial in a fancy- dancy cemetery with a view of a lake (like it’s really going to matter to me), or a local plot next to the fine/ expired residents of the city I live in.

I smirk at the irony of this because, see, I made no big deal about turning fifty over a year ago, but obviously Big Brother wants to acknowledge it. Flyers from AARP have gone in the trash. No disrespect to them, but at age fifty-one and far from being able to touch my IRA or Social Security without big penalties, what is the purpose of being inundated with this mail?

Especially mail to pick your burial site.

Let me say that I am an advocate of Advance Directives and making an effort to decrease the minutia of things your family has to do with your passing. The most important thing is to let them know what life saving efforts you want made in the case of significant health decline.

But this stuff in the mail. Geez!

I’m tempted to go to the dinner and ask questions like, “Would if I want to be buried in my back yard? Will this plan pay for it?” Or “I’d like to be buried next to Robert Frost. Is that possible?”

I won’t get any more insensitive about this. (You know what they say about Karma)

Someone told me a long time ago I had to deal with my issues about death.

Silly Rabbit. I’m a nurse. Death strolls through hospitals, nursing homes, and clinics picking and choosing whose time it is. I don’t know him personally, but sometimes I swear, I feel a draft and I know he’s just walked by.

You don’t stay in medicine without giving a head nod to Death and respecting his significance

I’m not afraid of Death. Sometimes I fear I’m not living enough, but I’m not afraid of death. I placed my life in someone else’s hands a long time ago.

When I’m ready to sit back, start counting my days left, and stop living. I’ll let Big Brother know. In the meantime, I have to finish this and go.

I have another doctor’s appointment.


13 responses to “Picking My Plot – No, not that kind.

  1. Jim says:

    I like my AARP membership. the discounts that I usually get always pays for it. the rest of the crap feeds the recycling gods.

  2. Mk says:

    That last line was a kicker.

  3. BETH says:

    At fifty, I was not even three-fourths of the way through my life. How can those vultures keep circling when most fifty-year-olds are not finished living? Some Canadian journalist recently wrote an article about how the government could save millions of $$$ if old people could all be euthanized instead of being sent to nursing homes. That seems to be Big Brother’s view in Canada.

    There is usually a free postage return envelope included with those offers, and my suggestion is to pack up the whole paper pile, stuff it into their own return envelope, and mail it back to them? I will guarantee if you do that a time or two, it will make them take you off their mailing list.

    Oh, beware of one more thing. If you agree to be buried in a drawer, be sure the closing fee is included. My husband and I were hijacked into paying double the amount to have our “drawers” locked after we were buried. Don’t you just love these criminals?

  4. NurSerial says:

    Oh dear, dinner and a casket! Makes you wonder what they were going to serve?!!

  5. Daria Kill says:

    Reblogged this on Let me give YOU the Moe-down and commented:
    A thought for all the 50+’s.

  6. joey says:

    Wow. At 50, hm? What’s your life expectancy? 86? Jeez. Thanks for the heads-up.
    As a former military spouse, I have all the paperwork done. As an anxiety sufferer I have dealt with the fear of death. I now know I actually fear PAIN and SUFFERING so this makes me revere nurses 😉 I wish to be cremated, and surely whomever picks out my ‘container’ will have preferences, hm? Maybe I’ll be decorative, maybe I’ll be hidden away…
    My father has mailed to me this thing where his ashes will be placed in a tree of my choosing (I chose spruce) and then I can plant it. I think that’s a good one, in relative terms.

    • Susan says:

      I like the ashes/tree idea.
      Having the military experience must have given you fast lessons on dealing with the realities of life expectancy. Now see, I’d be afraid to let myself fall in love with someone in the military.

  7. markmyworld says:

    Me too. I’m not afraid of death. I should have said this piece was a bit morbid but no, I’m more afraid of not living. I’m loving life right now and I like to enjoy it as much as possible.

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