
In the early piloting studies, we did labs, we looked at meds lists and we filmed a lot of people, so you could see that they were functional.Ī very important distinction is that vantage point is everything we’re not talking about the moments and hours before death, where you’re literally talking about a deoxygenated brain and altered states are more common. The other thing is that we used this method called the CAM, which is a clinical tool to rule out delirium. There has to be a witness and you have to be aware of risk, ramifications, all those things. Q: Are patients lucid when they're having these experiences?įirst of all, these are IRB, university-approved studies and the consent process is pretty intense. There’s two commonalities to the dying process - you eat less and your sleep architecture has changed. I think what’s happening is that they’re probably lucid dreaming. But it’s not like we walk in and people are seeing things around the room.

We use the term visions in our studies because people say that they’re awake. But what’s interesting is that the patients themselves will say, “No, no, I don’t normally dream.” So they’re described as more unlike than like dreams, but that’s what we call them. The nomenclature gets really tricky because the only reference point we have is to call them dreams. It’s really those subjective experiences at the end of life. Q: How do you define end-of-life experiences? We’ve medicalized it and sterilized it to the point that it’s been dehumanized. The point is that we view dying as this medical phenomenon when it’s ultimately just this human experience that is very rich. People who are having end-of-life experiences, who are the majority of people, are actually showing positive signs of growth, gaining insight and adapting right to the end. And the majority of people do find comfort and meaning in death.ĭying is this paradox where you’re physically declining, but spiritually, you’re very much alive. Our fear of pain, for example, is grossly overestimated. And it tends to look after itself in ways that people don’t imagine. So there is this willingness to give into that process. Physically dying - being sick - is hard work it’s exhausting. And I think when we project ourselves onto that space, we think of the news of finding out that you have a terminal illness - that almost always comes as a true shock.īut what happens to people who are truly dying, after a protracted illness, is an entirely different level of acceptance. We have this natural, visceral response to the dying process, which is understandable, and actually critical to survival. There’s a significant amount of misinterpretation from the outside. Q: What kinds of attitudes and perspectives do you see among patients who are nearing the end of their lives? (This interview has been edited for length and clarity.) Kerr hopped on a call with Discover to talk about the paradox of dying, how ELEs evolve as patients near the end of their lives and the ways that research like this can influence how we approach death as a society. (Credit: Hospice & Palliative Care Buffalo)

More than 60 percent of the patients found them to be comforting. In the days, weeks and even months leading to their deaths, Kerr and his team found that patients had visions of reunions with deceased relatives, dreams about travel and vivid memories of past experiences.

They also informed seven published studies, tackling topics like post-traumatic growth and the ways that ELEs can help bereaved loved ones process their loss. The stories he collected at their bedsides are featured in his 2020 book, Death Is But a Dream. To better understand these end-of-life experiences, or ELEs, Kerr has interviewed more than 1,400 dying patients. "They couldn't be ignored, and they had worth." "They were undeniable," says Kerr, now CEO of Hospice & Palliative Care Buffalo. But it didn't take long for Kerr to realize that these inner experiences could be profoundly therapeutic - not just for the patients, but for their families, too. When hospice physician Christopher Kerr first started moonlighting at Hospice & Palliative Care Buffalo in 1999, hearing about the powerful dreams and visions that dying patients often had made him uneasy.
