post by Paul Kelleher
Three years ago today my mother passed away in hospice. She was 52. While so-called adenocarcinoma of unknown primary was the worst thing to ever happen her, I'd like to think she would agree that the Gosnell Memorial Hospice House in Scarborough, Maine, was among the best things. Indeed, the only way I know how to express how grateful I am (and will continue to be) for the dignity and compassion bestowed by hospice is to admit that words could never adequately convey it.
So instead of trying, I'll simply pass along two essays on how we die in America that continue to inspire and challenge my thinking about these issues. The first is Atul Gawande's New Yorker piece, "Letting Go." The second is Bradley Flansbaum's heartfelt and penetrating post, "A Hospitalist's Lament." I recommend each very highly. (If you also wish to keep up with hopice scholarship and policy, consider subscribing to Don Taylor's twitter feed and/or keeping an eye on his posts at Theincidentialeconomists.com.)