I have a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate order) taped
to my refrigerator. I told a friend over the phone
today that should I contract cancer or some other
invasive disease, I would not elect to have sur-
gery or choose to take chemotherapy.
For god sake, I’m damn near my 76th year and I
live alone, figuring I have been around long enough.
I am disabled with arthritis and have no hope of
regaining any portion of the mobility I once knew.
Besides, I have been more places around this world
than most, and have had a full lifetime of experiences,
both good and bad. I am satisfied with what I have,
one day at a time.
My bucket list might include, dying a peaceful end
of life at home. Perhaps having a cold beer or two
while still able, not while I’m still functioning and
semi-ambulatory. (As a recovering alcoholic of more
than ten years, I’m sticking with my sobriety.)
I don’t subscribe to heaven and hell, so judgment
of me will be up to those who survive me. But
before my last breath, hopefully with still a mod-
icum of consciousness, I would like to see the day
when Donald J. Trump is convicted of one of his
myriad heinous crimes and is sent to prison.
Had I been a religious person, that hateful wish
of mine may be enough to restrict my access to
a heaven hereafter. Besides, when Trump is
meant to meet his maker, I’m pretty sure he’d
be bound for hell as well. And the thought of
spending eternity with him would get the best
of me.
Enough so, were I still alive, useless as
it may be for me, it may just give me pause to
reconsider resuscitation, surgery, even chemo-
therapy. Hellfire, castration would seem more
agreeable to me. Besides, given my age and
current situation, I no longer have need of my
equipment anyway.
-30-
Chris Hanch 3-25-2023
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