无意间看到Drving Miss Norma相关的一则报道，在Facebook找到他们的主页，Miss Norma刚刚已经去世了。
主页上的一句话：Life is a balance between holding on and letting go. -Rumi 很好的概括了在面对绝症时Miss Norma和她的儿子儿媳的选择，不是选择怎样手术怎样化疗，而是选择下一站去哪儿。她在人生的最后一站看遍了人生最美的风景。
看完了他们所有的贴子，感动于他们在面对死亡时的淡定。一边看一边想到那种叫荆棘鸟的鸟，它们在最尖利的荆棘刺向自己的心脏时唱出的生命的赞歌。Miss Norma和她的亲人总是微笑着，她们穿过美国26个州，去国家公园、去天文馆、去农场、去坐热气球、去陌生的地方收集所有为生命感动人的目光。每一次经历都是第一次，也是最后一次。
Being Mortal，向死而生，像书上说的那样。也许生命可以更好，可是这样应该就不会有遗憾了吧。RIP, Miss Norma! 同时也为Tim和夫人鼓掌!
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For many years Norma and Leo would listen to Paul Harvey's "The Rest of the Story" at lunch time in their humble home in northern Michigan. Now, this is the rest of her story . . .
During the same two-week period her husband, Leo, was dying, Norma was traveling through her own medical maze.
After having some blood detected in her urine during a routine exam she was sent for an ultrasound, and then another. The day after Leo was admitted to Hospice we learned that she had a large, likely cancerous mass on her uterus.
Two days after Leo died we found ourselves sitting in an OB/GYN office talking about treatment options.
You know the drill: surgery, then radiation and chemo in some order. When the doctor was finished he asked her how she would like to proceed.
A tiny woman at 101 pounds and under five-feet tall, an exhausted Norma looked the young doctor dead in the eye and with the strongest voice she could muster, said, “I’m 90-years-old, I’m hitting the road.”
The doctor and the confused first-day medical student who was shadowing him looked at Tim (her son) and me (her daughter-in-law, Ramie) for some clarification.
We had had time to talk to Norma beforehand about the likelihood that there would be some bad news coming from the doctor. She made it VERY clear to us that she had no interest in any treatment. We “got it” and were in complete support of her decision.
But what next? We couldn’t imagine leaving her in a nursing home, especially after walking down the long halls of the local Tender Care to visit Leo in the last room on the right, reserved by Hospice for the dying. No way.
There is also no way she could live at home alone without Leo. They were truly a well-oiled team of 67 years.
Having recently read Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End by Atul Gawande (please put this on your reading list) our best idea was to take her on the road with us. Norma currently is not in pain, her mind is sharp, she loves to travel, and she is remarkably easy to be around.
We explained to the well-meaning doctor and his student that we live in an RV and that we would be taking her wherever she wanted to go. He didn’t hesitate to say, “RIGHT ON!” We asked if he thought us irresponsible for this approach. His reply was telling.
“As doctors,” he said, “we see what cancer treatment looks like every day: ICU, nursing homes, awful side effects. Honestly, there is no guarantee she will survive the initial surgery to remove the mass. You are doing exactly what I would want to do in this situation. Have a fantastic trip!”
Meanwhile, the medical student stood discreetly by the exam room door taking it all in. Until that point she had spent her first day working with pregnant women (the waiting room was filled with them) all thinking about the beginning of life, not the end.
The look on her face during our conversation indicated she had just received the education of a lifetime.
So this is what they don’t teach you in medical school . . .
