Buchwald Not Ready for the Last Laugh

July 12, 2006 — -- Art Buchwald is supposed to be dead.

Five months ago, the Pulitizer Prize-winning columnist voluntarily stopped dialysis treatment, checked into a Washington-area hospice and prepared for the end.

But to the surprise and delight of his doctors, family and friends, Buchwald continues to live, announcing in a special column last week, "Instead of going straight upstairs, I am going to Martha's Vineyard."

Buchwald, 80, declined further dialysis treatment after doctors amputated his right leg below the knee in February. The humorist, best known for his long-running Washington Post column, which earned a Pulitzer Prize in 1982, was given weeks to live.

From his so-called deathbed, Buchwald updated a living will, devoured McDonald's milkshakes, said farewell to friends and even received a medal from the French ambassador to the United States honoring the writer's 50-year career.

Free from the constraints of 15 hours a week in the clinic, Buchwald met with congressmen, spoke with NPR and, on March 10, 2006, granted ABC News what was then believed to be one of his last television interviews.

'I'm Still Here'

Buchwald told "This Week with George Stephanopoulos" producer Lisa Koenig, "It was my decision," referring to his then month-long refusal of dialysis.

"I thought it would be a lot faster than it is," he said. "I was supposed to be [in the hospice] for three weeks, four weeks, and it's about the ninth or eighth week that I'm still here."

Sixteen weeks later, Buchwald wrote in the column, announcing his trip out of bed and toward the beach, "The purpose of the hospice is to help you go gently into the night when all else fails. ... It didn't work out that way for me."

With trademark humor, Buchwald observed, "Most people that enter a hospice depart by a different door than the one they came in."

Initially, Buchwald told "This Week," his family was skeptical of his decision to stop treatment. "My son didn't like the idea at all, but he was so sweet in not pushing me.

"Finally, when they said, 'It's your decision,' the family came around. And it's a very interesting thing, because we sit here in the living room of this place and we discuss my funeral, where it's going to be, who my speakers are going to be. And planning your own funeral, to be sitting here talking about it, is wild. It's crazy."

Still Joking After Five Months

Buchwald, long a staple of Washington society, met with members of the Kennedy family and convinced longtime friend Carly Simon to sing at his funeral.

Of his hospice stay, Buchwald told ABC News in March, "I'm having the best time of my life. I mean, wouldn't you, to be sitting here and everybody thinks you're a wonderful person and you can't take it all because, first of all, you know, you're starting to feel like John Glenn. You know, you don't understand -- why is this as wild as it is?"

The author theorized about heaven with friends such as Larry Gelbert, author and director of MASH, recalling for ABC News, "We laugh about [death]. We talk about it. We don't just sit there and bemoan it. And the friends I have feel good about it, because it's not a bad thing. In here, there's nothing you can do. You're here, and you're going. Everybody here is going."

It seems, however, Buchwald will first return to his beloved summer home in Martha's Vineyard. He'll get to hear Simon not at his funeral but at his bedside. She's agreed to sing "I'll Be Seeing You" during his summertime stay.

Ever the optimist, Buchwald has agreed to host the "Possible Dreams Auction," an island charity event, on Aug. 7. And he's even writing a book about his hospice experience titled "Too Soon to Say Goodbye" while occasionally continuing to write his ever-popular column.

Concluding his "This Week" interview in March, Buchwald turned to the camera and said, "I enjoyed talking with you. And I hope to see you next week and the week after and the next month."

Five months later, Buchwald is still going, still joking, but apparently not quite ready for the last laugh.