<p> There often comes a time when the individual simply decides that they're done.</p>
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<p> My uncle was operating on less than one full lung. He'd been taking supplemental oxygen for several years, but had finally been placed on a ventilator. Everything else was still in good shape - just the lungs were gone. (Yes, he'd been a multi-year smoker.) He had the family come together from all different parts of the country (seven kids, and assorted grand-kids and great grand-kids) so they could say goodbye and clear up any final lingering issues (one cousin often thought her dad didn't like her, and he was able to show her why she was wrong). Afterward, those that could handle it stayed with him while they literally "pulled the plug", and those that couldn't waited in the hospital's chapel.</p>
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<p> Much more recently, one of my parent's friends decided he had had enough. He's one of those cantankerous old farts that knows everybody but by damn, is going to live by his rules. He was having some intermittent balance problems and his legs were not quite up to task anymore, but he was still pretty strong for someone who was 93. My folks stopped by his hospital room one morning about a month ago, and he told them "I'm done!" That afternoon, he was.</p>