Dignity in Death

When I was about 20 years old, I worked in a hospital, in it was man of around 40 years of age, he had advanced parkinsons. This was some 30 years ago.He had two kids, teenagers. Every time he was alone, he would try and remove his trach so that he would suffocate. He could not feed himself, not go to the bathroom without help, he could not call out and ask for help. One night it was quiet, and he was awake, and we got out the ouija board, which was the only way he could communicate. He told me how a few years earlier, he would take his kids out sailing, camping, mountain climbing...all kinds of things. How it hurt him to see the pain in his kids eyes when they came to visit him every day at the hospital. He wanted his kids to get on with their lives as kids, to remember him as the father who did so much with them, not as the frail man he had become. I could not let the man die, but he gave me such an education that night, I have never forgotten that conversation. When it is my turn to go, I want it to be fast. I don't want to torture my family as I slowly die.

We are dealing with a medical age that has taken life beyond it's dignified limit to the point of medical torture. * In the past, people would have slipped quietly off into the Ether in their beds. Pain medication would be given at their request by those that loved and cared. If they didn't choose to eat and drink, tubes wouldn't be forced upon them unless they so requested, and it would have been done in the home by their friendly physician in their home with their extended family about. * Most people who call for Dying with Dignity are attempting to call attention this new reality. This new reality involves isolation, in a place that resembles a bad science fiction flick. Sometimes, overly busy staff forgot the pain meds. Shoving the tubes can be uncaring. Families are smaller, spread to the four winds, too busy to visit.

I watched my mom die. It took several months. She was always a very vain and proud woman. Because of her illness there was no possible way of this getting better. Still, she lingered on far longer than anyone expected she even could. During that time, her mind deteriorated. I felt so bad for her as she talked of crazy , outrageous things and in front of people that came to visit. Afterwards she would yell at me for letting her look "stupid". I watched her get up and sit on the commode and poop while having lunch with a friend of hers. She never would have wanted that in her right mind. She hated the last days of her life and became very bitter and angry at all of us who tried to help her. She was in such severe pain at the end that we listened to her scream when we tried to move her or give her a sponge bath. It affected me alot. I went home one nite and told all my girls....don't ever ever ever do that for me. We did what we thought was right by keeping her out of a nursing home and letting her know we cared. I still think that and have no regrets. As a mom ....I never want my girls to go thru that. My mother would not have wanted it either had she realized how hard it was. Part of me does see it your way but still...If i had a choice, I'd want to avoid that part of it.