Skip to content

Talk With Your Doc: Making the Most

Learning to accept mortality is difficult, but necessary in planning for the future
10927579_web1_180307-BPD-M-doctor-medical-medicine-health

In 2010, Doctors of BC or DoBC (Doctors of BC, the professional association of BC doctors) adopted an initiative entitled “Walk with Your Doc”. The purpose of this annual public health campaign was to promote physical health by inviting patients to walk with their physicians and talk about the benefits of daily activity.

In 2024, the Fernie MSA (Medical Staff Association) agreed to support a similar project, “Talk with Your Doc,” a local idea inspired by the DoBC initiative. Periodically, a physician will write a short article on a relevant medical issue. The hope is to create a space for healthy public engagement.

As this is a new venture, public feedback is welcome so as to best serve the needs and interests of readers.

Marian Ma, MD

Fernie

These days, I find myself reflecting frequently on the Serenity Prayer which states: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and wisdom to know the difference.”

I am sure it can be applied in many situations but in my work as a hospitalist (caring for admitted patients) in both Cranbrook and Fernie, I see it needed in the way people approach life…and death. If there’s anything that we truly cannot change and must learn to accept, it is our mortality as human beings. We all die. Sometimes it occurs peacefully in our sleep at home (what most of us hope for); at other times tragically and unexpectedly in the prime of our lives; and still others slowly and gradually over weeks, months and years.

It seems that we (as a Canadian society) used to be better at this, accepting dying as an inevitable part of living. Perhaps we’ve lost perspective as wars have become distant events involving “other” nations and the dying process institutionalized within the walls of medical expertise. Perhaps we have so idolized youth and independence that we’ve forgotten the beauty and strength of our elders and being interdependent in community. Instead of serenity, courage and wisdom, there is fear, denial and ignorance. I see it every time I work. I see it even in my own family.

My dad died last June. He was 89 with multiple medical issues and was, again, being hospitalized. As I tried to talk to him about not starting futile treatments, he seemed surprised, “Has it come to that?” “Yes, Dad; it has.” Fortunately, his will had already been updated and we knew his wishes after he died. He had also meticulously planned his finances to support him and my mom. And they had been exploring assisted living while acknowledging the possibility of eventually needing either long term or hospice care.

Conversations like these are hard for all of us, but so important to have.

Life is precious – a gift to be treasured. Ironically, I think we live better if we keep dying in its right perspective. Accepting that our days are limited will help treasure the time we do have. It will, perhaps, encourage us to not put off doing those things that we always thought we’d have time for – that trip, that dream, that relationship. It forces us to live each day to the fullest, because we do not know when our end will come. It helps us to not take our many gifts for granted: housing and food, glorious sunsets and majestic peaks, loved ones, relative peace.

And as we age, the knowledge that death is coming will help us to better plan for the end, so that others do not have to struggle or worse, fight, about what we would have wanted. Getting a will done, designating someone to make financial and medical decisions (in case we can’t), downsizing and purging (or just not accumulating unnecessarily), considering other housing options and communicating our wishes are all possible only when we have accepted that dying is part of living.

We also need to know and understand what the options are, especially as it pertains to medical treatments, something which I will discuss in Part II.