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Jewish World Review April 1, 2005 / 21 Adar II, 5765 Decisions at the beginning clearer than decisions at the end By Lori Borgman
http://www.JewishWorldReview.com |
On my desk sits a miniature replica of an Underwood typewriter
like the relics journalism students labored over in reporting classes ages
ago, or in the 1970s to be exact. This pipsqueak of a typewriter holds a
small picture frame in which I tucked a quote that says, "Life is
messy" Ann Coulter.
My mother, always current on the latest political news, would find it
entertaining that I found comfort after her death from the writing of Ann
Coulter, a personality not exactly known for expressing her sentiments in a
warm, fuzzball sort of way.
My mother spent her final 16 days in an intensive care unit after
suffering a brain aneurysm. There were times when I was not sure if
intensive care was a place of medical miracles, or a foretaste of Hell.
Life is messy and, sometimes, the end of life can be the messiest part of all.
My dad kept a small spiral notebook in his shirt pocket, where he wrote
down the names of the doctors that came and went and what they did. I lost
count after ten. It was a rare moment when doctor number seven knew what
doctor number three was doing.
Code blue. Ventilator, temporary. Coil the aneurysm. Drill two holes in the
skull for drainage. Move IV from arm to the chest. Swallow reflex. Feeding
tube. Uncomfortable to insert. Worse if they rip them out. Hand restraints.
CAT scan. X-ray. Lung culture. Lumbar puncture. Infection possibility.
Antibiotics?
There is one thing I learned from the constant barrage of questions and
decisions, and it is this: How to say, "I don't know." Even doctors don't
know. They can make an educated guess, but they don't always know.
The only ones who seem to know everything are the ones surrounding Terri
Schiavo. Both sides speak with clarity and certainty. "By the way, viewers,
may we remind you that Terri had weight and image problems. Here's a
picture of her now with sunken eyes, hollow cheeks and gaping mouth. More
at the bottom of the hour as we discuss the euphoria that comes with
dehydration."
Here's what I'd like to see: A pundit so clearly connected with the agony
of it all that, unable to talk, he simply puts his head down and sobs. A
young woman is brain damaged, a family is splintered and at war, a man
calls himself her husband yet fathers children with another woman, and
stricken parents who love their daughter and wish to care for her, are
forced by arms of their own government to watch her slowly starve.
Would there be a more appropriate response than weeping?
I'd like to hear from those who haven't been standing behind the
microphones — nurses and hospice workers who have nurtured the last
moments of life and tenderly brought dignity to death. From loved ones who
have cared for those with terminal cancer and Alzheimer's. They don't have
to theorize about suffering, they have lived suffering. It would benefit us
greatly to hear from the parents of dearly loved children with severe
disabilities. Like a train wreck you can't turn away from, those parents
have watched Terri Schiavo with a lump in their throat and a pounding in
their chest.
When you don't know with certainty, you move slowly very, very slowly —
because the decisions at the end of life are never as clear as the
decisions at the beginning of life.
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JWR contributor Lori Borgman is the author of , most recently, "Pass the Faith, Please" (Click HERE to purchase. Sales help fund JWR.) and I Was a Better Mother Before I Had Kids To comment, please click here. To visit her website click here.
© 2005, Lori Borgman
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Arnold Ahlert | |||||||||||
