A Chinese company, calling itself ‘the organ factory of the future,’ has humanized a pig through genetic engineering to enable a transplant performed on a brain-dead man
Once when she had an asthma induced heart attack and her brain was without fresh oxygen for fifteen minutes. Her brain turned into complete mush, while retaining some minuscule bodily functions like breathing, defecation, pupilary reflex. “Persistent vegetative state” used to be the less apt description for it.
Second time after she has succumbed to pneumonia while in hospice. Her mother, the only next of kin with sway over her fate, a religious nut job, kept her alive for four years.
Where I am trying to go with this is that false hope and selfishness is bad, and if I had the choice, nay SAY back then between keeping her alive or having lungs transplanted into her as an experiment that may establish the procedure to save someone’s life in the future, I’d have chosen the experiment every time.
I did not have a say in ending her absolutely pointless continued existence though. And she warned me about her mother’s selfishness and narcissism many times before her person as I knew her ceased to exist.
My point is that love is very much often a selfish act, as opposed to compassion, empathy or altruism. And people often make the wrong choices out of selfishness.
Thanks for sharing. And you are absolutely right about love being irrational and at times selfish. My experience of this was somewhat similar. At least in terms of the selfish and irrational love my mom had.
My dad was diagnosed with Lewy Body Dementia (similar to Alzheimer’s) and my mom was in denial for far to long about it. Basically preventing getting him any help early on or even a diagnosis. Very religious and trusting that God would do something.
I don’t even know when it was that I “lost” him. I don’t remember much from that time as I suppressed the memory of those years I was in college. Visiting home and finding out a new piece of him was gone. The last real conversation I remember he asked me “do you hate me?”
He had been asking me if I checked the tire pressure in my car. Whatever was left of him was hyper-focused on worry. He had asked me about 100 times that day. I don’t even know what I said to get him to ask me if I hated him. I don’t remember. I just remember his face so confused.
I know I told him I loved him. Gave him a hug. But I think that was the last time any form of conversation was possible. So when I walked out the door that day and drove to class is when he “died” to me.
I’m sorry for your loss and can understand that feeling of having no control as you see a person you loved alive but already gone.
What a robotic response to someone trying to explain love and losing a loved one to you.
I’m not talking to someone that can’t understand empathy. Good luck with that.
I’m a survivor of my beloved who has died twice:
Where I am trying to go with this is that false hope and selfishness is bad, and if I had the choice, nay SAY back then between keeping her alive or having lungs transplanted into her as an experiment that may establish the procedure to save someone’s life in the future, I’d have chosen the experiment every time.
I did not have a say in ending her absolutely pointless continued existence though. And she warned me about her mother’s selfishness and narcissism many times before her person as I knew her ceased to exist.
My point is that love is very much often a selfish act, as opposed to compassion, empathy or altruism. And people often make the wrong choices out of selfishness.
Thanks for sharing. And you are absolutely right about love being irrational and at times selfish. My experience of this was somewhat similar. At least in terms of the selfish and irrational love my mom had.
My dad was diagnosed with Lewy Body Dementia (similar to Alzheimer’s) and my mom was in denial for far to long about it. Basically preventing getting him any help early on or even a diagnosis. Very religious and trusting that God would do something.
I don’t even know when it was that I “lost” him. I don’t remember much from that time as I suppressed the memory of those years I was in college. Visiting home and finding out a new piece of him was gone. The last real conversation I remember he asked me “do you hate me?”
He had been asking me if I checked the tire pressure in my car. Whatever was left of him was hyper-focused on worry. He had asked me about 100 times that day. I don’t even know what I said to get him to ask me if I hated him. I don’t remember. I just remember his face so confused.
I know I told him I loved him. Gave him a hug. But I think that was the last time any form of conversation was possible. So when I walked out the door that day and drove to class is when he “died” to me.
I’m sorry for your loss and can understand that feeling of having no control as you see a person you loved alive but already gone.