How to help ensure you die on your own terms

By LISA ZAMOSKY

Earlier this year, Gary Spivack and his sister Betsy Goodkin lost their mother to cancer. Between her first diagnosis and her death in April, her children say, their mother was determined to overcome her illness.

Gary Spivack and his sister Betsy Goodkin

“She was a very stubborn and proud person who fought this and had a lot of support from immediate family and a lot of friends,” says Spivack, 49, a music industry executive who lives in Pacific Palisades.

“She was going to live out her final minutes as healthy and fighting it as much as she could,” adds Goodkin, 51, who describes herself as a “full-time mom” in the Cheviot Hills neighborhood of Los Angeles.

But even as their mother fought to stay alive and healthy, her children say, she made her end-of-life wishes known: If death was imminent, she wanted no heroic measures taken to save her life. And she insisted on dying at home.

They said their mother passed away April 13 in just the manner she had hoped: She was in her own bedroom with the lights low and the mood peaceful. She held hands with loved ones as she passed.

Dr. Neil Wenger, director of the UCLA Health Ethics Center, said most patients would prefer to die that way, but few actually do. That’s because they fail to put their final request in writing, he says.

Without advanced planning, he says, most people die in hospital intensive care units, “in not the most dignified circumstances, in a way most say they don’t want to die.”

Why the gap between what people say they want at the end of their lives and what actually happens? There are many reasons.

A recent study published in the American Journal of Preventive Medicine found that lack of awareness is the most common reason people cite for not having written instructions prepared in advance.

“People go into a mode of thinking — and are encouraged to — that ‘if I just apply enough technology I will survive it,'” says Barbara Coombs Lee, president of Denver group Compassion & Choices. They even continue “in that mode of thinking when it’s perfectly obvious they are actively dying.”

Doctors also avoid such talks. Some physicians incorrectly believe patients don’t want to discuss death. Others pass the buck, believing it’s some other doctor’s responsibility to have the discussion.

These talks take time and can be emotional. “Doctors are human and they bring to the table a lot of their own emotions about death and dying, and these can be very difficult conversations to have,” said Dr. Glenn Braunstein, vice president of clinical innovation at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center.

A report out last week by the Institute of Medicine stated that medical and nursing education fails to orient healthcare providers toward less aggressive forms of end-of-life care, and many providers simply lack the communication skills needed to have these conversations.

Also, the report noted, providers are still largely paid to deliver more services, rather than fewer — even when treatment is futile.

Experts offer recommendations for putting end-of-life plans in place and what needs to be considered.

Open up the lines of communication. Frequent conversations about end-of-life goals between doctors and patients are essential if unwanted treatment is to be avoided, experts say.

“When people fail to plan for the worst, often they find themselves in a struggle to avoid an imminent and inevitable death that ends up causing an enormous amount of suffering for them and for their family members,” Coombs Lee says.

“Anyone with a life-threatening disease should know their options and the efficacy rate of any treatment they are offered,” she says.

Insist on shared decision-making. End-of-life conversations should be part of shared decision-making between a patient and his or her doctor, Braunstein says.

“You take into account the patient’s preferences, their spirituality and a variety of things. At the same time the physician should be giving honest information about what the prognosis is, what we can do and what we can’t do,” he says.

Talk about comfort care: Conversations should include discussions about your various treatment options, including palliative care, which emphasizes a patient’s physical and emotional comfort. Braunstein said palliative care should start well before a patient is terminally ill.

Also important is to talk about hospice care — treatment when you are no longer attempting to prolong your life but rather focusing on staying comfortable and managing pain in your final days.

“We think of hospice care delivered in the home as the gold standard,” Coombs Lee says.

Research suggests that people who receive palliative and hospice care may live longer than ill patients who don’t.

Select an agent. It’s a good idea to name someone such as a family member or close friend to serve as your healthcare agent.

This should be the person you most trust to represent your best interests and who will make sure your wishes are respected and carried out. Your agent can’t be your doctor or other healthcare providers treating you.

Establish an advance care directive. These directives for your last days are legal documents. They allow patients to state their treatment wishes and appoint someone to make medical decisions on their behalf.

They should spell out what you want to have happen and what you don’t. They must be signed by two witnesses — not your doctor or the person you name as your healthcare agent. Alternatively, you can have the document notarized.

A copy should be given to your healthcare agent, other family members or friends, and to your doctor. Ask that it be included as part of your medical record.

Get your doctor’s orders in writing. A Physician Orders for Life-Sustaining Treatment is a frequently used document to be signed by both the physician and the patient.

It generally is filled out when a person’s anticipated life span is six months or less and is put in a prominent place where caregivers and paramedics can see it. “The document is pink so it stands out, and we tell people to put it on their refrigerator or where they’re sitting downstairs,” Braunstein says.

Goodkin of Cheviot Hills says she learned a lot from her mother’s passing in April, namely about how to die on your own terms.

“Everybody wants to die with dignity, bottom line,” she says. “Whatever that means to somebody, you just have to honor that.”

Complete Article HERE!

Paper garments for the grave: artists encourage death talk

A Tasmanian exhibition of wearable paper art is exploring society’s unwillingness to talk about death.

Tasmanian artists are hoping to provoke important conversations about the end-of-life stage in an exhibition initiated by the palliative care sector.

paper grave clothes

Wynyard paper artist Ritchie Ares Dona creates his pieces from the pages of second-hand books.

“(I am) making a garment out of paper for a dead body,” he said.

His piece, called Eulogy, is being crafted from the heartfelt messages of Tasmanians who have lost loved ones.

“Some of them were writing letters as if the person were still living,” he said.

“Some of them are confessions.”

It is part of an exhibition to get underway in December called Paper Garments for the Grave.

Jenny Fuller from the Tasmanian Association for Hospice and Palliative Care hopes it provokes important conversations.

“(We’re) trying to get the community talking more comfortably about death and dying and end-of-life decision making,’ she said.

The exhibition starts in Burnie and will tour the state next year.Body Mould

It was inspired by Melbourne designer Pia Interlandi, who helps people make real clothes for their own burials.

“Part of what I do is a ritual, and a moment that is deeply entwined in their lives. I feel really nervous,” she said.

Curator Kitty Taylor said the use of paper as a material had great significance.

“Paper is fragile, as is life, and we just really like those connections,” she said.

“And processes that we can do to paper to strengthen them, there’s a really nice analogy in that about life as well.

“Some are actually making their own garments, so as you can imagine that’d be quite an emotional experience.”

Complete Article HERE!

For more information about the exhibit visit the Burnie Arts & Function Centre, visit their website HERE!

Dying to Know Day a national call to action to remove taboos around death

by GERALDINE CARDOZO

Death 'fans' Clive Salzer, Gypsy Artemis and Anthea Paterson planning events around Dying

Death ‘fans’ Clive Salzer, Gypsy Artemis and Anthea Paterson planning events around Dying to Know Day on the Central Coast.

For Umina retirees Anthea Paterson and Clive Salzer, life has never been better since facing up to death.

The couple, who call themselves “death fans” say they had a life-changing experience after attending an end-of-life course.

“Both our mothers are 94 and approaching death, so we went along to an end of life course to try and prepare ourselves for what is to come,” Mr Salzer said.

“While it was very emotional, the experience has changed our outlook on life and death completely.”

The pair are now part of the Central Coast End of Life Collective, which is associated with the Groundswell Project – the group behind Dying to Know Day.

“This is a national day of action challenging the taboo of death and bringing to life conversations around death, dying and bereavement,” Central Coast organiser Gypsy Artemis said.

Making a will is an important part in dealing with the inevitability of death.

Making a will is an important part in dealing with the inevitability of death.

“To me, Dying to Know Day is about saying things you may wish you’d never left unsaid.”

Ms Artemis, formerly known as Kim Ryder, said her fascination with “society’s last taboo” was sparked after a near-death experience in 1997.

“This changed my outlook on life forever and then my mum was diagnosed with terminal cancer and died in 2008. This was my first first-hand experience with death and I started thinking about how we, as a society, don’t deal with death very well.”

For Mrs Paterson, talking about death has helped her deal with grief associated with the death of her father.

“It’s not a morbid thing, this is about exploring death to enhance life,” she said.

ORGANISE YOUR OWN FUNERAL

Find out information about how to organise your own funeral, alternatives to cremation, how to make a will and advanced care plan at Dying to Know events next week. For details visit www.dyingtoknowday.org.

 
Complete Article HERE!

WRITE YOUR OWN OBITUARY

I have an interesting exercise for you.

I want you to write your own obituary. Just like you would want it to appear after your death. You can be as creative as you like.

Obituary

Try to remember that this is just an exercise, okay? A wise man once said that we are unable to manage what we cannot measure. And this is an opportunity for you to take measure of who and what you are. Give it some thought. As the saying goes: Things that are difficult for us will tell us more about ourselves than the things we do with ease.

Take some time over the next week or so to review examples of obituaries and death notices…they’re in all the newspapers and online. Now write your own obituary. You died today. What would you like to say about yourself and your death? Model it upon the ones you researched or be creative and design your own. Remember, this is just a snapshot of who you are at this moment. It would be interesting to compare this obituary with the one that you might write at the next year or when it is truly needed.

“Life doesn’t cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh.”
— George Bernard Shaw

Excerpts From World Class Obituaries:

Ronnie loved spur-of-the-moment trips in luxury cars to Vegas with his friends. We would also like to thank the people who issued his credit cards.

 

Allison studied cooking to prevent recurrences of memorable culinary disasters and fend off resulting “blond” jokes.

 

When you remember Brett, remember he was more than a great set of biceps; he was also an incredible set of pecs.

 

She is remembered for her endless capacity to love, her romantic ideals, her wit, her sense of humor, her homemaking and her ability to accessorize.

 

Jenette is probably shrieking from the other side now that her true age has been published.

 

Handsome and tailored to a fault, he somehow still managed to wear too much jewelry.

 

William, the proud owner of an outrageous giant poodle named Orbit, could often be found in his red pumps on Bernal Hill or high in the Sierras.

 

Here’s to short skirts, tall hairdos, seamed stockings, and bad attitudes!

 

He lived in San Francisco according to the Gospel of Mame and believed implicitly in the virtues of room service and frequent flyer miles.

 

Ron loved collecting ‘50’s memorabilia as well as dining out and drinking Merlot and driving his treasured 1961 Cadillac — sometimes unfortunately in that order!

 

She lived by the words of Alice Roosevelt: “If you haven’t anything nice to say about someone, come sit next to me.

 

Weary of reading obituaries noting someone’s courageous battle with death, Mike wanted it known that he died as a result of being stubborn, refusing to follow doctors’ orders and raising hell for more than six decades. He enjoyed booze, guns, cars, and younger women until the day he died. So many of his childhood friends that weren’t killed in Vietnam went on to become criminals, prostitutes and/or Democrats. He asks that you stop by and re-tell the stories he can no longer tell. As the Celebration will contain adult material we respectfully ask that no children under 18 attend.

Aid In Dying, Part 2

“If you expect heroics from the people who attend you, even if it doesn’t include hastening your death, you’d be well advised to treat your attendants as heroes. Mutual respect and consideration, honor and compassion should be the hallmarks of your relationship with them.”

 

(We pick up our discussion where we left off last time. Part 1 is HERE.)

One of the most predictable questions I get when I present on the topic of aid in dying is; how do I go about finding someone who will be willing to help me? And I always answer the same way; the only way to know is by asking.

AidinDyingphoto_mediumI suggest that anyone looking for help with their end of life choices begin by interviewing those they love, to see who may have psychological, emotional, or moral reservations about assisting them in this fashion. I suggest that you never ask anyone to violate his/her ethical code regardless of how much you need help.

Once you find the person(s) you are looking for, I suggest that you check in with this person regularly to see if their level of commitment remains high, and excuse anyone who may have developed the least reservation about helping you as the time approaches. I suggest that you keep the number of people involved to the smallest number possible. One or two people at the most is my recommendation. Confidentiality and coordination of effort is essential and a large group make that virtually impossible.

At this point in the presentation I share two stories of very different death scenes to make my point. I was invited to consult on both occasions.

Jeffery was dying of AIDS. He and Alex, his lover of nearly twenty years, were preparing for his imminent death. Jeffery had a fear that he was beginning to slide into dementia, which was his worst nightmare. He wanted to short-circuit this final indignity and wanted to know if I would help them plan a strategy for proactively ending his life. I told them that I would be happy to offer them whatever information I had.street drugs

On this first visit with them I tried to assess the situation; to get a feel for the level of commitment that each person was bringing to this endeavor. There was no doubt about it, Jeffery was actively dying, his doctor confirmed the dementia diagnosis, and so time was of the essence.

I asked, “Have you guys done your homework?”

“If you mean, have we squirreled away enough medications to do the trick, the answer is no. We never gave this eventuality a thought until recently and now there’s not enough time to do that.”

“Will your doctor assist you with a prescription for a lethal dose of, let’s say, a barbiturate?”

“Doubt it. We’ve never talked to her about this. I don’t even know where she stands on the issue.”

“Well, then, how were you going to make this happen?”

“We were thinking about using street drugs, you know, coke and heroin. I also have some oral morphine left over from a friend who died last year.”

the_end_life_by_liquifiedsoul-d3fuz2nThat’s it? That’s your plan? What if you mess up on the dosage or something else goes wrong? I’ve seen it happen. You could be in worse shape than you are now and still be alive. Do you have a Plan B?”

Jeffery responded; “Alex and I talked about it some and Alex promised that he wouldn’t let me suffer.”

“But what does that mean? Alex, do you know what it is you are promising?”

The three of us talked for hours about their half-baked scheme. I tried to get them to see how implausible their plan was and how serious the consequences would be if there was a miscalculation. They would have none of it. Their love for each other and Alex’s blind commitment to Jeffery to preserve him from any more suffering was all there was to know. Alex would be as resourceful as necessary, even if it meant he had to suffocate Jeffery in the end.

Ten days later I was invited to their home again. I didn’t realize it at first, but earlier that day they had set their plan in motion. Alex had scored some cocaine, freebased it, and watched as Jeffery shot up. Both of these guys had had a long history with intravenous drug use so all of this was familiar territory. Unfortunately, Jeffery’s history with drug use complicated matters considerably. He had built up a tolerance to the drug and even though he was nothing more than skin and bones, the dose was not lethal. This is the situation as I found it. Jeffery was comatose and appeared near death, and Alex was at his wit’s end.

“He’s been like that for hours. I thought for sure he’d be dead by now. I think we’ve screwed up. What am I gonna do now?”

“I’m afraid I can’t advise you. I can only help you weigh your options.”

As I saw it, Alex had two options. He could call the paramedics and have them try to revive Jeffery with all the trauma that would involve, or he could honor the commitment he made to Jeffery and complete the plan they rehearsed.

Then there was Earl and his wife Christina. Earl was in the final stages of lung cancer. He was a hard, difficult man, plagued angerby many personal demons. Even when he was well, people used to say that he was an acquired taste, and if you ask me, that was being generous. The sicker he got, the more difficult he became. He alienated just about everyone – his sons, his friends, even the people from hospice. No one could tolerate his fury. In the end there was only Christina.

Some weeks before he died, Earl demanded that Christina call me over for a visit. I wasn’t inclined to accept the summons because I hated to see how he treated her, but Christina sounded so defeated on the phone that I relented and made plans to stop by the following day. Nothing had changed in the eight months since my last visit. Despite being a mere shadow of his former self, Earl was as abusive as ever. How had Christina been able to stand it all this time, I wondered.

“I want to die! I want this to be over now. I can’t get decent care. All these fuckin’ doctors and nurses make me sick. They don’t know what they’re doing.”

“He doesn’t mean that, Richard,” Christina interjected. “He gets good care.”

“Pipe down! I’m doing the talking. What do you know about it anyway? She don’t know nothin’ about what it’s like for me. Listen, Richard, I want to die. I want to end it right now, but I need help. I’m sick of this.”

“What kind of help do you need?” I asked.

“I read Final Exit, you know. I know how to do it. I got all these pills I can take.” Earl pointed to the cache of pill bottles in the nightstand drawer. “But I don’t want any slip-ups. I need someone to help me with the plastic bag at the right time, and she won’t help me.” He nodded in the direction of his long-suffering wife.

keep-calm-and-do-your-homework-100It was true. Christina absolutely refused to help. When I asked her why, she could only sheepishly shrug her shoulders. There was clearly much more to this than what was on the surface.

Earl then turned his attention to me. “You got to help me. You’re the only one left.”

“Earl, I won’t and can’t. It’s not that your request is out of line. It’s because I’m a stranger here. In all the years that we’ve known each other, you’ve never once invited even the most casual of friendships to form between us. You’ve always kept me out. You can’t ask me to overlook that now. You’re asking me to participate in one of the most intimate experiences two people can have in life and, I’m afraid, there just isn’t any foundation for that here. I’m sorry.”

“You’re a fuckin’ coward, just like everybody else. So you can just get the hell out and leave me alone. Damn you all!”

I hated to leave Christina alone with him, but I did as he demanded. Christina showed me to the door.

“Why won’t you help him?” I asked, when she and I were alone. “It would be the end of your misery.”

“That’s exactly why I won’t. After all these years, I couldn’t be sure whether helping him die would be an act of compassion, which would end his suffering, or an act of violence, which would end mine.”

These two scenarios provide a blueprint of what not to do if you are seriously considering having someone assist you to die. If you expect heroics from the people who attend you, even if it doesn’t include hastening your death, you’d be well advised to treat your attendants as heroes. Mutual respect and consideration, honor and compassion should be the hallmarks of your relationship with them.

You also have to have a well-thought out plan. And a “Plan B.” There’s no substitute for meticulous attention to detail. Who, what, when, where, and how. Do your homework!

Staring death in the face

By Chen Ximeng

As Song Hua (pseudonym) lay in her open casket, nearly a dozen people dressed in black stood above the 34-year-old shedding tears and paying heartfelt tributes. Incense burned from an altar flanked by wreaths as moving music played in the small, candlelit chapel in downtown Beijing. But this wasn’t any ordinary memorial service. After all, Song wasn’t actually dead. Inner Light Group

“I really wanted to experience what it feels like to die,” said Song, whose faux funeral was attended by 10 “mourners” playing the roles of family members, friends and colleagues.

Death might be a certainty in life, but it is a major taboo in Chinese culture. Visiting ancestors’ tombs for Qingming Festival, which falls on April 5, used to be the closest most people were comfortable with getting to death, but now a growing number of people are participating in educational activities that help them to develop a rational understanding of death.

Try before you die

Song’s fake wake last month was organized by the Inner Light Group (ILG), a Dongcheng district-based counseling agency that has provided the service to around a dozen people since last year. Each wake costs 100 yuan ($16.11) and runs for two hours.

Faux funerals have been popular in Japan and South Korea since 2010, but they are still relatively new in China. They give people like Song, whose battle with depression had caused her to contemplate suicide, a glimpse of the impact their deaths might have on loved ones while reminding them of their own mortality.

“I couldn’t accept myself and wanted to end it all. I knew it was wrong, but I felt trapped in an abyss of grief and despair. I thought, ‘Why not leave the world?'” said Song.

Before Song’s faux funeral, she was required to give a farewell letter to her “relatives” played by ILG members. She was then draped in a white sheet and laid in her casket at the center of the 30-square-meter chapel before the agency’s 45-year-old founder and mock celebrant, Jia Dao, told the somber audience of Song’s death by suicide.

“I lay face-up in the casket as my ‘parents,’ ‘siblings’ and ‘colleagues’ circled me,” explained Song.

Everything seemed to be progressing like any normal funeral until a ‘colleague’ who had apparently returned from abroad to attend Song’s ‘funeral’ held her hand and sobbed about being left heartbroken.

Upon hearing his words, Song was stirred from her motionless state and tears rolled from the corners of her closed eyes.

“Their words were so sincere and warm that it connected deeply with my heart. Since then, I haven’t thought about suicide once. I can now accept death naturally,” said Song.

Ashes to ashes

For those who want to take their near-death experience a step further from a funeral, the Life and Death Experience Center in Shanghai might be the best option. Visitors can write their own will and epitaph, as well as nominate organs they wish to donate.

The experience culminates inside a 4D “crematory” that shows the living what the dead never see, hear or smell: roaring flames turning skin, hair and bones to ash.

The center, which has attracted more than 400,000 yuan from over 200 investors since July 2013, is slated to open later this year.

Ding Rui, one of the center’s co-founders, was inspired to create the grisly tourist attraction after climbing into a real crematory himself in November 2011 while working as a trainer for volunteers at Hand in Hand, a Shanghai-based NGO that provides palliative care.

“When I was inside the crematory, I felt breathless for a moment and very close to death,” recalled Ding.

A 'mourner' holds the hand

Although Ding knew he was safe, staring at flame vents positioned above his head and at his sides was an unnerving experience.

“Being inside [the crematory] strengthened my resolve to open the center to teach people about death. I wanted to simulate the vivid feeling of being cremated and also experiencing rebirth,” said Ding.

Dying to experience the other side

His time spent caring for people nearing the end of their lives led Ding to realize problems with Chinese being “unable to openly talk about death.”

“After taking care of more and more dying patients, I found that people’s fear of death is infectious like a virus,” said Ding, adding that his biggest concern from experience in palliative care was seeing how few people – from the elderly to their family members – struggled to directly face death.

No one lives forever, but sometimes people can be uncomfortable at being reminded they are mere mortals.

“The deep impact of Chinese culture is a major reason why few people are comfortable talking about death,” said Wang Zuoji, deputy director of the Beijing Folklore Committee and a member of the capital’s non-tangible cultural heritage committee.

In Chinese culture, the number four is considered unlucky because its pronunciation in Putonghua is close to “die.” Similarly, a clock is never given as a gift because it sounds similar to the word for “end.” Even the sight of chopsticks placed upright in a bowl of rice can cause superstitious Chinese to shudder due to its resemblance to incense.

“Some customs and taboos have no scientific reasoning, existing only to reject anything related to death or bad luck,” said Wang.

Preserving dignity at the end

Grim Reaper imitator

Ding said he shared a feeling of powerlessness with those he cared for in palliative care, noting that medical apparatus used to extend people’s lives often came at the cost of individuals’ dignity.

“People dying don’t have the right to decide matters relating to their death, which are instead handled by relatives often influenced by others’ opinions,” said Ding.

Most people spare no effort to give their loved ones the best medical care possible, even if it means extending their life for a short time only. Life-support machines and medical ventilators are often used to keep alive patients unable to talk or move out of bed.

In a society that values filial piety, many relatives don’t dare assist or speed up a parent’s death. Despite a December 2013 survey by Shanghai Jiao Tong University finding that more than two-thirds of Chinese have an open, tolerant attitude towards euthanasia, the practice is banned under Chinese law and there are no signs it could be legalized any time soon.

“In some regards, palliative care doesn’t work in educating people about death,” said Ding.

“We want to put it in the spotlight by letting people experience the closest thing to it. Death education is important because no one knows when their number is up.”

Learning about death

Wang Yifang, a professor at Peking University’s Health Science Center, recalled how one of his colleagues learned after teaching a class in 2009 that his father was terminally ill. Accepting fate gave both father and son peace of mind.

“My colleague shunned technology and medical care that would extend his father’s life, choosing instead to provide palliative care at home. His father died graciously,” said Wang Yifang.

Since 2009, Wang Yifang has taught a course about life and death that helps students come to grips with an issue avoided most of their young lives.

“My course provides theory-based education, while death simulation is a more radical version of interactive education,” said Wang Yifang.

Approaches to death education vary in China. It currently isn’t included in curriculums of schools, with opinions among experts divided over whether it should be added.

Medical students in Taiwan are required to lie in a coffin and read farewell letters, while students at a high school in Hainan Province visit funeral parlors to inspect how ashes are stored after cremation.

Chen Yue, a counselor at the Sunshine Psychological Counseling Corporation in Beijing, has taught a class since February about death education.

Attendance is low, however, with even some fellow counselors unable to sit through classes due to the grim nature of its subject.

“Parents need to take the initiative in teaching their children about death. The subject of death is horrible, but neglecting it makes it even more terrifying to children,” said Chen.

“China has a long way to go in death education, which can not be achieved in the span of one or two generations. People need to dramatically change their perception of death, but this can only be done little by little.”

Complete Article HERE!

Sherwin B. Nuland, ‘How We Die’ Author, Dies at 83

By DENISE GELLENE

Dr. Sherwin B. Nuland, a surgeon and author who drew on more than 35 years in medicine and a childhood buffeted by illness in writing “How We Die,” an award-winning book that sought to dispel the notion of death with dignity and fueled a national conversation about end-of-life decisions, died on Monday at his home in Hamden, Conn. He was 83.

The cause was prostate cancer, his daughter Amelia Nuland said.Sherwin Nuland

To Dr. Nuland, death was messy and frequently humiliating, and he believed that seeking the good death was pointless and an exercise in self-deception. He maintained that only an uncommon few, through a lucky confluence of circumstances, reached life’s end before the destructiveness of dying eroded their humanity.

“I have not seen much dignity in the process by which we die,” he wrote. “The quest to achieve true dignity fails when our bodies fail.”

In “How We Die, ” published in 1994, Dr. Nuland described in frank detail the processes by which life succumbs to violence, disease or old age. Arriving amid an intense moral and legal debate over physician-assisted suicide — perhaps the ultimate manifestation of the concept of a dignified death — the book tapped into a deep national desire to understand the nature of dying, which, as Dr. Nuland observed, increasingly took place behind the walls of the modern hospital. It won a National Book Award.

Dr. Nuland wrote that his intention was to demythologize death, making it more familiar and therefore less frightening, so that the dying might approach decisions regarding their care with greater knowledge and more reasonable expectations. The issue has only intensified since the book was published, and has been discussed and debated in the medical world, on campuses, in the news media and among politicians and government officials engaged in health care policy.

“The final disease that nature inflicts on us will determine the atmosphere in which we take our leave of life,” he wrote, “but our own choices should be allowed, insofar as possible, to be the decisive factor in the manner of our going.”

Beyond its descriptions of ruptured embolisms, spreading metastases and bodily functions run amok, “How We Die” was a criticism of a medical profession that saw death as an enemy to be engaged, frequently beyond the point of futility.

In chiding physicians, Dr. Nuland pointed the finger at himself, confessing that on more than one occasion he persuaded dying patients to accept aggressive treatments that intensified their suffering and robbed them of an easier death. One of those patients was his brother, Harvey, an accountant who died of colon cancer in 1990 after receiving an experimental treatment with no reasonable chance of success.

Looking back on that episode, Dr. Nuland wrote that he had mistakenly tried to give his brother hope, failing to acknowledge that disease, not death, was the true nemesis.

He was born Shepsel Ber Nudelman on Dec. 8, 1930, in the Bronx, the son of Orthodox Jews who had emigrated from Russia. (He adopted the first and middle names Sherwin Bernard when he went to kindergarten.) His childhood was spent in a tiny South Bronx apartment with his parents, his older brother, his maternal grandmother and a maiden aunt, in an atmosphere permeated with sickness and death.

A brother died before Dr. Nuland was born, and at age 3, he was hospitalized for diphtheria. His mother, the emotional center of his family, died of colon cancer when he was 11. In his memoir, “Lost in America” (2003), he recalled with striking vividness the bad smells and bloody pads that came from his mother’s room.

Dr. Nuland’s adolescent years were dominated by his father, Meyer Nudelman, a garment worker who was incapacitated by chronic illness, physical infirmities and his resistance to a new way of life. He terrified the family with his explosive rages, never learned to read or write English — Yiddish was the predominant language at home — and could not walk more than a short distance without his son’s help.

Dr. Nuland regarded him with fear and shame, emotions that would take a deep psychological toll later in his life.

While still in high school, Dr. Nuland and his older brother changed their names from Nudelman, separating themselves from a weak, angry man who, Dr. Nuland wrote, represented “everything I so desperately wanted to be rid of.” They chose a name first adopted by a cousin, Willie Nuland, a physician who looked after the boys’ parents when they were ill, and whose compassion and competence pointed Dr. Nuland toward his career.

Dr. Nuland received his bachelor’s degree from New York University in 1951 and went on to study medicine at Yale, attracted by its distance — geographically and culturally — from the old-world Jewishness in which he grew up. Reading about spinal cord diseases as a medical student, Dr. Nuland discovered that his father’s crippling illness was tertiary, or chronic, syphilis. Dr. Nuland felt anger, and then pity. “I now had some perception of the tragedy of his life,” he wrote in his memoir.

Dr. Nuland received his medical degree from Yale in 1955. Electing to specialize in surgery, he set his sights on becoming chief surgical resident at Yale-New Haven Hospital, entering a Darwinian competition for a position seldom occupied by Jews. In 1958, Dr. Nuland won the coveted appointment. Four days later, his father died of complications of syphilis. Mr. Nudelman never knew the source of what led to his father’s death.

“I think that one time, before he was married, Meyer Nudelman was very unlucky,” Dr. Nuland said in a 2003 interview with The New York Times.

Mr. Nudelman’s death fulfilled Dr. Nuland’s wish to escape his father, but instead of liberation, he felt intense guilt and shame. Plagued by feelings of unworthiness, he felt himself becoming his father, assuming Mr. Nudelman’s hunched shoulders and shuffling gait.

By his early 40s, his depression had become so severe that he was institutionalized for more than a year. Senior psychiatrists recommended a lobotomy, but they were overruled by the young resident psychiatrist who had been assigned to his case, who insisted on electroshock therapy. By early 1974, it was clear that the treatment had been a success, and as Dr. Nuland recovered, according to his memoir, he started to make peace with his father and, perhaps, himself.

Dr. Nuland’s first marriage ended in divorce. In 1977, he married Sarah Peterson, an actress and director. Besides his wife, survivors include two children from his first marriage, Victoria Jane Nuland, the assistant secretary of state for European and Eurasian affairs, and Andrew; two children from his second marriage, Amelia and William; and four grandchildren.

From 1962 until 1991, he was a clinical professor of surgery at Yale, where he also taught bioethics and medical history. He was a surgeon at Yale-New Haven from 1962 to 1992, when he retired to write full time.

Dr. Nuland’s books include “Doctors: The Biography of Medicine” (1988), “The Wisdom of the Body” (1997), “The Doctors’ Plague” (2003) and “The Uncertain Art” (2008). He was a contributing editor to The American Scholar and The New Republic.

“How We Die,” which won the National Book Award for nonfiction in 1994 and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in nonfiction in 1995, has sold more than 500,000 copies worldwide. In its concluding chapter, Dr. Nuland confessed that he, like many of his readers, desired a death without suffering “surrounded by the people and the things I love,” though he hastened to add that his odds were slim. This brought him to a final question.

“And so, if the classic image of dying with dignity must be modified or even discarded,” he wrote, “what is to be salvaged of our hope for the final memories we leave to those who love us? The dignity we seek in dying must be found in the dignity with which we have lived our lives.”

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