As the Big Guy fades into oblivion, as his vital systems begin to shut down, there is one way he might buy at least another year of pointless, useless existence.
He needs to beg the CalPig to visit Bellevue for a farewell visit, and declare him to be really most sincerely dead.
She did that last spring for the three-quarters dead Cleveland ward heeler, and he's still only three-quarters dead, still soaking up the taxpayers' money at a record pace.