After losing her grandmother in 2020 to Alzheimer’s, and supporting others at the end of their lives, Lacy realized she was suited to support the dying. So, she trained with Going With Grace to become an End-of-Life Doula. She co-founded The Art of Dying in Fort Worth, Texas, and moved to Keaau, Hawaii, in 2024. She is passionate about helping others and changing the way we speak about and treat those who are entering their end of life transition. This article, used with permission, appeared online at https://www.theartofdyingfw.com/blog/7mauc4ty39bcjuepb00ugfx45kjwd8.
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Language is a tool. It is inherited and yet constantly evolving. It serves us not only in communicating with others, but also in understanding our own human experience.
Metaphors in particular have a powerful impact. Sometimes patterns emerge that require examining to determine how they are serving us. For example: If you skim through an obituary, you will undoubtedly see many phrases like “courageous battle … lost the fight … valiant warrior,” and other verbiage that could be called military metaphor or “battle language.”
I’m not suggesting this is bad or wrong. Like many things in life, it doesn’t fit neatly into boxes, but since it is so prevalent, it’s worth a closer look.
Some ways this type of framework has positive impacts is in bolstering a person mentally and emotionally, to face the difficult decisions and experiences ahead with resolve, focus, and composure. It can be a healthy coping strategy, and it can assist in perseverance.
For some, this way of thinking is the tried-and-true way of approaching difficulties in all aspects of life. If it’s working for someone and not hurting others, why change it?
I have a good friend whose mother went kicking and screaming until the bitter end. I’m not exaggerating. If you mentioned the word “hospice” in her presence, you were immediately exiled from the room. She was fighting the same way she fought her way out of poverty, fought as a single mom for her kids, and fought through each medical treatment. I think she may have been born fighting.
The determination she showed throughout her illness was admirable. She wanted to be present for her family as long as possible. Her last moments were quite painful, and even traumatic, for herself and family at her side.
That leads to the question of when battle language turns unhelpful – or even burdensome. There seems to be a distinction among doctors and researchers that battle verbiage is more helpful in early stages of illness. Perhaps at some point, what is being fought for changes. The thing is: In battles, there are winners and losers. If you say someone was victorious, it implies that someone with an opposite outcome failed. Do we then accept the implication that death is a failure? That can be an undue burden on a person already suffering. If it’s a fight, it’s not a very fair fight.
Medical Director Dr. Sunita Puri states, “Sometimes we inflict a lot of suffering on ourselves by trying to push past our limits (and battle language) can be an armor that doubles as a veil,” meaning it can prevent us from having open discussions about the reality of our situation, and what is possible or in our best interest. Puri goes on to say, “It can also lead to painful and sometimes futile medical procedures robbing people of comfort and quality of life.”
So, if the war metaphors are not serving someone, what might be an alternative way to imagine this difficult task? I am compelled by Stephen Jenkinson when he states in his revolutionary book Die Wise, “What if your job, should you accept it, is to wrestle with this angel of your dying instead of fighting it? … Wrestling is a different thing entirely. Wrestling has choreography. The purpose … isn’t to get to the end, to have it be over, to resolve it, to let it go, to accept. Wrestling has an intimacy to it that fighting will never attain. Wrestling isn’t what happens to you. It is what you do.”
Being aware of the lens with which we view our condition is imperative to our well-being. If our view is being influenced by the words we use in a way that hinders us from our actual goals, we can take what is helpful and leave the rest. We can also be more aware when we support others who are ill. At a time that can feel powerless, we find a seemingly small but mighty tool that is in our control.
Sidenotes;
The battle language trend seems to have taken root after the National Cancer Act of 1971 was signed by President Nixon, who nicknamed it “The War on Cancer.” By 1970, cancer had become the nation’s second-leading cause of death, and the bill served to advance the understanding and treatment of it. The territorial nature of cancer especially lends itself to military metaphor.
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Final Exit Network (FEN) is a network of dedicated professionals and caring, trained volunteers who support mentally competent adults as they navigate their end-of-life journey. Established in 2004, FEN seeks to educate qualified individuals in practical, peaceful ways to end their lives, offer a compassionate bedside presence and defend a person’s right to choose. For more information, go to www.finalexitnetwork.org.
Payments and donations are tax deductible to the full extent allowed by law. Final Exit Network is a 501(c)3 nonprofit organization.
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