I stumbled across this anonymous blog by accident, but her story was so vivid and compelling, I soon found myself reading it from beginning to end.

In 2003, I had a double lung transplantation that didn’t go very well. After having had a tracheotomy and having been on the vent for 2 months, as well as hooked up to all the other apparatuses that are part of existence in an ICU, my life was clearly ebbing. There came a day when I was fairly sure that my case would land in the statistics with those 20% who don’t survive the first year following that difficult surgery. I assumed that I would probably not survive to see the next day, and almost certainly not to see the day after.

Frankly, the thought of dying in the hospital, where I’d spent the previous 9 months, was not in the least bit painful. I did feel somewhat sorry for my family, because they were all on the other side of the world and couldn’t be with me. They would have to deal with my having died “alone” – I would be dead and would have to deal with nothing at all.

Yes, in those hours, in my imagination I walked through my father’s garden, I sat on my sister’s terrace, I drove the country lanes with my sweetheart. But I didn’t need to be at home in my bed.

My condition deteriorated, I yearned to finally die. But I couldn’t. After about a week of standing on the brink, I started my recovery. After 4 months, I was discharged.

That week of staring at my own demise has rewarded me with the loss of fear of death. I learned that when the time has come to let go, you can. And that when you let go, it doesn’t really make much difference where you are.

A nationwide health record system will help, in case anything happens when you are out of the “glass hospital” area or in another “glass hospital”.

Agree with you that for the 2nd group of people it’s a tragedy.

Dying isn’t easy. But we can try to make it as comfortable as possible.