I would need the room for a week. That’s what I told the front-desk
clerk at the Extended Residence Stay America Whatever when I checked in
that Sunday night.
At least a week, I said, maybe longer.
My mother had already been in the hospital across the street for
nearly a week by the time I arrived in Tucson. She was no stranger to
hospitals over the last few years. She’d wake up to find that her
breathing was more difficult, or that some new infection was exploiting
her weakened immune system, or that some new debilitating side effect
from the powerful drugs that were keeping her alive had emerged. My
stepfather would rush her to a hospital, and she would come home a few
days later having accepted some previously feared
development—being hooked up to an oxygen tank, having to use a
walker—as her “new normal.”
The plan: I would stay in Tucson for three or four days and help my
stepfather and aunt look after my mother. Then my brother Billy
would fly in from Chicago, take over the helping-out duties and my
hotel room, and we’d figure out what to do next.
Before going to the hotel on Sunday night, I got to play cards with
my mother and read with her, and things were looking less grim than
they had when my aunt called me in Seattle earlier that day and told me
to get on an airplane. My mother wasn’t getting better, but she wasn’t
getting worse.
My mother had pulmonary fibrosis, a degenerative lung condition, and
we knew enough about the disease to know that dramatic turns for the
worse were a possibility. She knew that pulmonary fibrosis would
eventually end her life, and she’d done some research into just what
sort of an end she could expect. It wasn’t going to be pretty. Her
lungs were gradually filling with scar tissue. She would, when her time
came, slowly and painfully suffocate to death over a period of hours or
days. But eight weeks before she wound up in a sprawling, dung-colored
hospital in sprawling, dung-colored Tucson, my mother’s doctors had
given her two to five years to live.
She’d recently marked the five-year anniversary of her diagnosis, an
anniversary very few pulmonary fibrosis sufferers live to celebrate.
She was terrified, as her fifth anniversary approached, that she
wouldn’t “beat five.” But her spirits lifted when her anniversary came
and went, and her doctors gave her years, not months or weeks, to live.
That’s when she decided to go on this trip with her husband, driving to
California and New Mexico and Arizona. She was looking forward to
attending her first grandson’s high-school graduation, her grade-school
class’s 50th reunion, a Broadway show.
The Seattle Post-Intelligencer‘s Joel Connelly has written
several columns—and several thousand words—blasting
Initiative 1000, the November ballot measure in Washington State that
would make it legal for physicians to prescribe lethal doses of
medication to terminally ill patients. Connelly doesn’t like the
measure because he believes the purpose of a “democratic society” is to
“safeguard and enhance life, especially among the youngest, the
weakest, and the suffering”; because he worries that the movement might
next “seek to expand conditions for the legal ending of life, as has
been done in the Netherlands”; and because out-of-state money has been
collected by supporters of Initiative 1000.
“Should Washington be a launching pad for a movement that seeks to
transform a crime into a ‘medical treatment’?” Connelly thunders.
KUOW has been covering the debate over I-1000, too. In a recent
report, two widows were interviewed about the deaths of their husbands.
After watching their spouses die, one widow planned to vote for I-1000
and the other planned to vote against it.
The woman voting for the initiative—whose husband died of
brain cancer—wants terminally ill people to have a choice at the
end of their lives, a choice to end their suffering and hasten an
inevitable, rapidly approaching death. The woman voting against the
initiative wants—well, she wants what we all want. She wants to
have a good death, a peaceful death, a death like the one her husband,
um, enjoyed.
“I would like to be enveloped in the love of a good caregiver I
would get,” she says.
Don’t we all want that kind of death? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if
each of us could enjoy a Hallmark death? Wouldn’t it be ideal if each
of us passed from this life into the next—aka “the
void”—enveloped in the love of good caregivers and under the care
of competent “pain management” professionals? But not everyone is so
lucky. Some of us have to endure deaths that are gruesome and
protracted and excruciatingly painful, deaths that involve pain that
cannot be “managed,” deaths that our loving caregivers can only stand
helplessly by and witness.
“You don’t know how you’re going to feel at the end of your life,”
the widow planning to vote for I-1000 says. “I want to have the choices
available to me.”
Choices.
Exactly. If I-1000 is approved by Washington State voters, the widow
opposed to the initiative will not be compelled to end her life with
the assistance of a physician. She can choose pain meds and the love of
caregivers and die a “natural” death. (What’s so “natural” about pain
management anyway?) But if I-1000 is rejected, the widow who plans to
vote in favor of it will not have the same choice. She will not be able
to choose to end her life, and end her suffering, if the pain becomes
too much for her to bear.
That’s what the debate about I-1000 is really all about: your body,
your death, your choice. The passage of I-1000 doesn’t impose anything
on terminally ill people who reject physician-assisted suicide for
religious reasons. But the rejection of I-1000 imposes the values of
others on terminally ill people who would like to make that choice for
themselves, who should have a right to make that choice for
themselves.
And, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing about physician-assisted
suicide—or, as it should be called, end-of-life pain
management—that precludes the presence of loving caregivers. You
can be surrounded by love and have access to the best medical care
available and still conclude—reasonably and rationally—that
you would rather not spend the last few moments of your life in
blinding pain or gasping for breath or pumped full of just enough
morphine to (hopefully) deaden your pain without deadening you.
On Monday morning, after eliminating all other possibilities (a
virus, pneumonia, some rare desert fungus), a doctor pulled me and my
stepfather out of my mother’s room. They were out of options. Nothing
more could be done. Her battered lungs were failing; one had a widening
hole in it. Amazingly, the doctor didn’t say, “It’s over, this is it.”
He laid out the facts and we stared at him dumbly for that
world-without-end moment, and then one of us—my stepfather, me, I
don’t remember—finally said, “So this is it?”
The doctor nodded.
We somehow managed to hold it together, me and my stepfather. We
didn’t have the luxury of breaking down. He stepped out of the
intensive-care unit to tell my sister and my aunt the news, to confer
about how we would break the news to my mother, and to call a priest. I
stepped back into her room to sit with her, to hold her hand. I didn’t
tell her what I knew; it wasn’t my place. I would sit with her and wait
for my stepfather to return.
Suddenly, the doctor was at the door to my mother’s room again. He
waved me out into the hall. He needed a medical directive. Immediately.
Her vital signs were tanking. If we were going to put a tube in her,
and put her on machines that could breathe for her, it had to be now.
Right now. So it fell to me to walk back into my mother’s room, tell
her she was going to die, and lay out her rather limited options. She
could be put under and put on machines and live for a day or two in a
coma, long enough for her other two children to get down to Tucson and
say their good-byes, which she wouldn’t be able to hear. Or she could
live for maybe another six hours if she continued to wear an oxygen
mask that forced air into her lungs with so much force it made her
whole body convulse. Or she could take the mask off and suffocate to
death. Slowly, painfully, over an hour or two.
It was her choice.
“No mask,” she said, “no pain.”
Her nurse promised to give her enough morphine to deaden any pain
she might feel after my mother made her choice: She would take off the
mask. She would go now. I told the doctor and then ran sobbing—no
longer trying to hold it together—into the waiting room to get my
stepfather, my sister, and my aunt. Things were worse than they were
five minutes ago. Get in here, I said, get in here now.
We said our good-byes—doesn’t that sound dignified? But her
mask was still on and her body still convulsing. Good-byes reduced my
affable stepfather to wracking sobs; good-byes sent me and my sister
falling to the floor beside our mother’s deathbed. We held a phone up
to my mother’s ear so she could hear one of my brothers shout his
good-bye over the whir and thump of the oxygen machine, while we tried
desperately to get my other brother on the phone.
In the midst of all of this, a hospital orderly breezed into my
mother’s room and handed her a menu to fill out for tomorrow’s meals.
It was a staggering blow, this sudden and unwelcome reminder that
tomorrow was coming and my mother wouldn’t be part of it, and it felt
like we had all just been punched in the stomach. After a
this-can’t-be-
happening pause, my stepfather rose from his chair
and barked so loudly at the orderly that she dropped the menu, which
fluttered to the floor under my mother’s bed.
Then my mother was ready. The mask came off, she held tight to our
hands, and the morphine went in. Her grip slackened. My mother was
still alive, in there somewhere, beyond our reach. Was she in pain? We
don’t know. She couldn’t talk to us now, or focus on us, but she was
awake, her eyes open. She gasped for breath, again and again, and we
sat there, traumatized, waiting for her heart to stop, waiting for the
very first sound that I had ever heard—my mother’s heart
beating—to go silent.
People must accept death at “the hour chosen by God,” according to
Pope Benedict XVI, leader of the Catholic Church, which is pouring
money into the campaign against I-1000.
The hour chosen by God? What does that even mean? Without the
intervention of man—and medical science—my mother would
have died years earlier. And at the end, even without assisted suicide
as an option, my mother had to make her choices. Two hours with the
mask off? Six with the mask on? Another two days hooked up to machines?
Once things were hopeless, she chose the quickest, if not the easiest,
exit. Mask off, two hours. That was my mother’s choice, not God’s.
Did my mother commit suicide? I wonder what the pope might say.
I know what my mother would say: The same church leaders who can’t
manage to keep priests from raping children aren’t entitled to
micromanage the final moments of our lives.
If religious people believe assisted suicide is wrong, they have a
right to say so. Same for gay marriage and abortion. They oppose them
for religious reasons, but it’s somehow not enough for them to deny
those things to themselves. They have to rush into your intimate life
and deny them to you, too—deny you control over your own
reproductive organs, deny you the spouse of your choosing, condemn you
to pain (or the terror of it) at the end of your life.
The proper response to religious opposition to choice or love or
death can be reduced to a series of bumper stickers: Don’t approve of
abortion? Don’t have one. Don’t approve of gay marriage? Don’t have
one. Don’t approve of physician-assisted suicide? For Christ’s sake,
don’t have one. But don’t tell me I can’t have one—each
one—because it offends your God.
Fuck your God.
They gave my mother some more morphine—not enough to kill her,
only enough to deaden the pain while her lungs finished her off. Still:
Was she in pain? I’m haunted by the thought that she could have
been in pain—the pain we promised to spare her—but had no
way to tell us, no way to ask for more painkillers, no way to let us
know that she needed us, that she needed our help, that she needed us
to do whatever we could to hasten her inevitable death and end her
suffering.
I don’t know what my mother would have done if she had had the
choice to take a few pills and skip the last two hours of her life. She
was a practicing Catholic. But she was also pro-choice, pro–gay
marriage, pro–ordaining women. If she could’ve committed suicide,
by her own hand, with a doctor “assisting” only by providing her with
drugs and allowing her to administer them to herself, after saying her
good-byes, I suspect she would have done so, so great was her fear of
dying in pain.
I do know that she should have been allowed to make that choice for
herself. It’s not a choice that Joel Connelly—or the Catholic
Church—had a right to make for her.
I also know that, if my mother needed my help, I would’ve held a
glass of water to her lips, so that she could swallow the pills that
would’ve spared her those two hours of agony.
And that shouldn’t be a crime.
May you and your family find comfort and solace in the memories of the good times which you shared with your mother/loved one.
Thanks again, Dan, for your powerfully written words of reason.
Dan – This had to hurt to live through and write about, as it hurt me to read of it. Hopefully, your mother’s courage will not be limited to a Tucson hospital room. She did a marvelous job raising at least one son who can share with and help others at tough times in their lives.
Sometimes I wonder if the Joel Connelly’s of the world, who oppose I-1000 out for religous reasons, are joined by those entities that profit on the pain & suffering of folks like Mother Savage. (there’s an odd name)
Insurance & pharmaceutical companies make a lot of money on the terminally ill. Anyone know how much those groups are contributing to the anti-dignity cause?
And for Catholics to talk about the “sanctity of life” is the height of hypocrisy. No organization in human history has as much innocent blood on their hands as the pope and his gang. “Hour of god’s choosing” is shorthand for “we’ll let you die when we’re good & ready”. (or, “when you’re out of money”)
That was really well written Dan, condolences to you and your family.
Thank you for sharing from your heart with such courage.
My parents almost lost both my brother and when we were younger. They saw intolerable suffering… I now see thanks to your words how it must have been for them at certain key moments. I was a teenager at the time and remember them looking at me and holding my hands as a priest delivered me my last rights. Seeing the fear, disbelief and pain in their eyes (I remember thinking, “Is it odd that this priest is comforting me?” and “Would he do it if he knew I was a lesbian?” and “I wish I had told my mom” at that moment – off topic in some ways but not in others…. long story which I will refrain from getting into any further)… I started this only wanting to thank you so much for telling your story. I wish you and your family the very best, comfort, and love. Please keep speaking out about all you have…. I have sent this article to my entire email list & I will be voting against Stephen Harper.
Keep up the good work. I wish I could have met your mother she sounds amazing. I will go home and give my catholic pro-choice, pro–gay marriage a huge hug tonight.
Thank you Dan for weighing in and giving your very real mother’s face to this issue.
One question that comes to mind is the “suicide clause” that exists in life insurance that cancels a policy payout in the instance of a suicide. I wonder how many insurance companies are tossing dollars to support this issue that will surely prove more lucrative to them in the long run. A recent news report of a woman who was denied a lung-transplant by her insurance company, but offered a Rx for a lethal medication, is another unwanted outcome that comes to mind. I support this measure, and hate the idea of a Hobson’s choice between suffering or insuring my family’s financial stability.
Dan, first and formost, my heart and tears go out to you and your family. Reading your article brought back a lot of memories. You see, 20 years ago, the docs sent my grandmother home with a shunt and a box of morpophine and told her if things got too much for her, XX cc’s would take care of things. She and my grandfather stared at that box for almost 3 weeks while she became so weak caring for herself was out of the question. (the docs had given here only a few weeks at the most to live) THey called my husband and I to come over (with our 6 month old daughter in tow) and be with them. After a 4 hour drive, we were there. THey told us what they wanted to do. My grandmother was to weak to load the syringe, so I did it. We all held hands as she faded in and out, and finally she pushed the syringe into the shunt. She fell asleep. It took about 45 minutes for everything to secome to the morphine’s effect of shutting everything down. We called the doc first. I’ll never forget it, but I’m thankful to the doc for providing this option. I think.
I was surprised to learn that I have become a Catholic! I was shocked! I have tried and tried to avoid being one, all my life. I favored abortion rights. I think that stem cell research is a great idea. I think that civil unions are okay. Wasn’t that enough? How did I go wrong?
I also am opposed to assisted suicide. I oppose assisted suicide because some day those chickens will come home to roost for everyone of us. Laws morph over time, depending on the present circumnstances. They do not stop at present measures, and when they are enacted they become easier to erode the protections.
We are entering a period of great political and economic uncertainty. No one knows what the NEXT ten years will bring. The past ten years are no guide when we start treading into such uncharted waters. Only history gives us a guide and we must be wise and foresighted to see the dangers ahead, and not be fooled.
Someone wants this law very, very much. Where is the pressure? Not likely it’s the families, I think.
The unspoken economic forces that are driving someone to spend $2.5 Million dollars to relentlessly campaign for this measure , for all these years in so many states, despite defeat after defeat, are likely to grow in intensity, as we face budget cuts, failures in insurance comverages and increasing costs, Medicaid failures, and increasinig pressures on disabled adults and elders.
Every society that has adopted these laws, sooner or later, falls prey to indifference and apathy over the killing of supposedly unproductive human beings. That spreads to all of us.
That is the part I oppose, because I am the senior parent of a gentle and beautiful adult autistic daughter who our state has appointed a public guardian for that she neither wants or needs, and we worry that laws like this would give the state the right during an economic downturn to decide to dispose of in some future modified version. To us the slippery slope is very, very real, given the impossible and unlawful things the state has to our family done already. This just puts another brick into place.
Generally few people were aware of what destructive economic forces were unleashed ten years ago when Wall Street was deregulated. So, now we are here. The Jeremiahs were right. Effects of laws like these are not always immediately apparent.
Be careful! Be very careful! This is how Germany went in the late 1930s. This is how Holland went into euthanasia during the past 20 years. There is a lot of age and handicapped prejudice and there is a shortage of sophisticated voters right now as we can see.
Even if one person suffers a wrongful death because of this law, it is too much to tolerate. Many prescription druges these days cause depression a a side effect. How easy it would be to take the one-two punch to assisted suicide and save the state money by steering patients into drinking the KoolAid?
You have my condolences, on the passing of your mother. You can be grateful she went relatively quickly.
But as we all know, sometimes our bodies can betray us.
My family got the call that my grandfather had only hours to live on a Saturday morning – his cardio-pulmonary system was failing after a long bout with cancer. Most people die within a few hours of when they start to “mottle.” My mother, who is a chaplin at a nursing home, was very familiar with how these things go and did her best to prepare everyone.
My grandfather was completely unaware of us; absorbed in morphine and his own pain, he could only groan and call for my grandmother. We watched him carefully and spent our time arguing with the doctor to give him morphine more frequently.
Defying all expectations, his state lasted through to the next tuesday morning. His pain and delirium lasted for days, not hours. The hardest part was watching my grandmother, who would not eat or sleep… a woman who had already wasted down to 90 lbs under the stress of caring for him.
He didn’t go quickly, he didn’t go peacefully, his pain wasn’t controlled well with morphine, and he didn’t even know his loved ones were there. As a deeply pragmatic man, I highly doubt my grandfather would have chosen such an ending… but he didn’t have a choice.
I believe that while death is hard on everyone, a quick death is a blessing for the people dying and those who love them.
Sorry it is back again. I can’t figure out what is going on with this site. It showed up at first, then it was deleted, now it is back again. Apologies to the moderators and thanks for a good airing of issues.
Fantastic piece, Dan. I went through similar bedside situations at the age of 25 and have the deepest sympathy for you.
Thank you Dan and again more condolences,and I would like some more time to try at helping the mentally challenged with understanding the realities of dealing with “chronic hospitalization”.
Chronic hospitalization is a condition this layman will use now to ellucidate the terminal and hopeful feelings of those individuals who spend more than their neighbors “comparative valued hours” in “symbiotic sympathy” and or “simulated theoretical arm chairing of rhetoric”.
For all the non-professionals out there in the world who only go to hospitals to visit the accidental insured, or the birth of a new family member, the death with dignity issue may seem a rather tight fisted approach to the defense of this writers dignity and anger and anguish.
More on name recognition later.
Let’s get to the heart of the laymamn’s term of defense, shall we?
The community of professional writers have many avenues with which to vent frustrations, and egos aside, support of the difficult times all human beings share as a species.
As this “layman” witer will freely admit, I “jumped” into thias defense club for the reasons that ‘this is my high school thesis’, in reality….being played out before all of you… as is “your high school thesis”… and graduations beyond that point also.
This by no means is a statment denagrading Dan and his family or friends.
The grammatical and personal reasons for support are secondary to the message of rationalized indignation some political or religious “deserters” face when confronted with the “community of friends and family pressuring” and second guessing the reasons of grief and personal choice.
Any person who has been to the Union Gospel Mission , will have a pleathora of differing opinions on drugs, alchohol, sex, life, death, God… the good meal… and the poor quality of life out in the streets.
All of those words are contained in the dictionaries of life…
including the Bible ( Catholic ) and the other books of faith that seperate man and woman in the court of law.
If , those of little faith have a problem with flags waving and arm bands and dark colored glasses and personal choices between all kinds of differing people on the planet in a country where the
” openly disguised segregation of bigotry and sexism and discrimination against gay or lesbian men or women “
clashes with the older generations fears of long term belief expeirences of individual lives should carefully consider their own mortality and sin before casting blame and judgement against a blanket of compassionate groupings of co-workers, families and friends.
If you stay in a place long enough, you can make that “mission” your life’s work.
If you want something more in life… go out and find it.
As to name recognition… and Joel Connelly… Joel… go out to netflix and rent that DVD Jennifer Connelly was in dealing with tv and heroin and city life and junkies and sex and sex and sex and tell me what you think of paranoia and “schitzoid fledgling high school writers another day.
Thank you, Dan, for your intimate story. I agree it’s about choice. Your mother’s choice, your choice, my choice. I’ll be voting yes. Meanwhile, best wishes to you and your family.
Great piece Dan. A card well played!
Very powerful. Very right and true. Thank you for for sharing your experience, and thank you for showing people why we should all vote yes on 1000.
“Fuck your God.”
Thank you, Dan. Very much. I’ve never read words that gave me more truth.
I watched my dad die at home of pancreatic cancer. He died surrounded by people who loved and adored him, in his home, even with his beloved cat, and in such intolerable pain that he couldn’t even ingest his pain medications and didn’t recognize either of his children.
It’s not eugenics, it’s not inhumane, it’s humanity at it’s best and most compassionate. It’s preserving human dignity.
Dan, my heart goes out to you and your family. I’ve read both of your autobiographical books, and while I’m a very big fan of you, I was also a huge fan of your mother. She always seemed in your writing like the kind of mom everybody should have–kind, compassionate, supportive, and funny.
I do not accept the idea of a God who wants people to suffer. I think that if God exists and lives up to His good publicity–perfect, all-knowing, loving and merciful–He damn well doesn’t want ANYONE to suffer needlessly.
If I lived in Washington state, I would vote for I-1000. Death is scary, and no one should also have to fear that it’ll be painful and drawn out. No one should have to be afraid of watching their loved ones suffer helplessly, with no options for making it stop.
I believe in love, I believe in mercy, and I believe in the right to choose.
I also believe in you. Thank you for sharing this, so that people will know.
Thank you, Dan, and condolences on your mother’s death. I understand the issue of a slippery slope, and I do not, as a rule, support suicide as a solution. At the same time… when you have a terminal illness, when you know that all you have in front of you is pain and terror, when you know that no one can help you and there is nothing left to be done, when you know that every day you live from that point on is racking up deeper and deeper debt for your loved ones… an option needs to exist, without fear, without condemnation, and without the worry of committing an illegal act or making others suffer for your decision. This is important, and I’m glad to have read your article.
Thank you for your courage and for your well articulated points on the issue, Dan. Your words here are painful to read, but have a great deal of power…the way that some people don’t understand your argument infuriates me.
Let me add my sympathy and condolence on this loss. And massive thanks from me too for saying well what I have long thought.
Deciding when to end one’s life is a personal matter that no one should be able to usurp from a thinking being who has harmed none.
And I agree–Fuck any god that even if it existed would want people to suffer so, and the same for the minions that invoke it.
May healing come soon.
that was one of the most beautiful essays i’ve ever read.
Dan,
I am so sorry for your loss.As a former care giver.I am 100% for I-1000 to pass.Most people say it is assisting suicide.I say its giving them comfort.Especially if they have a DNR order.Who the hell are we to say,so and so needs to suffer.For the
sake of religious zealots.I know for my self I-1000.Is doing a serivce to all.The poor individauls suffering through a terminal illness.Yes it should be a choice to make.And we do live in a “Free” country.I am 100% behind this.I am very sorry for your loss though.Mothers are the first person to touch your soul,and they help inspire the greatness within.
I am so sorry for your loss.
But I just can’t vote for the initiative. In a profit-driven health care system wherein the care we receive is based on either what we can afford or what our insurance will pay, we just cannot have “Well, we won’t cover your care because you might not recover, but we will cover your suicide” as an option.
FIRST we need to reform our health care system. THEN we can talk about doctor-assisted suicide.
Though even then I will have qualms; step into a veterinary office and ask the staff about convenience euthanasia performed on “much-loved” pets who are not really sick but are old enough to be a bother, or have behavior problems, or are expensive.
That is what we, the people are like.
Thank you for this.
In 2000, my mom, a cynical Catholic, died a very slow, painful death. I was her caregiver and she died at home, in her bed, while I was tending to her bed sores. Her heart finally gave up. She was an emaciated shell, unable to stand, appetite gone, and completely in despair from the excruciating pain she lived with for several years. There were repeated times where she asked me for an overdose of her morphine medication, but I could not legally give it to her. I would have, if I had been allowed, because she was the one asking and I would have done whatever she asked.
I will be voting yes on I-1000 because my mom should have had the right to escape the horrible death she suffered.
Thank you, and many condolences. This was an amazing essay.
Thanks for posting your story. I’m certain it will help many people faced with those decisions and not enough time to make them, perhaps without the benefit of other family members to reassure them that they are doing the right thing. Thank you.
I think this lays out my philosophy about this issue perfectly Dan. Thanks for giving voice to those of us who believe that we should have choice.
way to make me cry at work.
Thank You for sharing your experience and views with us.
As someone who has worked in and around a highly conservative religious right -even having worked for a Catholic Archdiocese, I really felt the humanity our your loss come through loud and clear in the face of those who only see one way of thinking and being.
Just as someone has the right to live, we should be given the right to go peacefully as we wish… or they are not rights at all.
Thank You so much. My thoughts and heart go out to You and your family’s loss.
-Stephen Gilbert
I am so very sorry for what you had to go through, Dan, as I recently went through nearly the same thing with my own mother. She was forced to slowly suffocate after fighting cancer for three years, and I stayed home and took care of her until she died.
I know for certain that my mother would have chosen to collect herself, prepare herself, and end her life before the agonizing pain and panic did so for her.
I made sure to re-register to vote in the county I moved to for two reasons:
one was to vote for Barack Obama, and the second was to vote for I-1000.
Christ, Dan…you are such a beautiful writer. I’m usually at work when I go on The Stranger’s website, and many a time I’ve had to stifle loud guffaws or blink back tears after reading your work (no privacy in Cubeville!). This was such a moving piece…I am so deeply sorry you had to go through that.
Thank you Dan. I appreciate you sharing your personal story, and I also appreciate you taking the time to put together such a well-crafted argument in favor of I-1000.
I really worry that we’re so afraid of death in this country, that we will fight off opportunities to enhance the way we handle it. Most of us can’t even talk about it openly enough to understand what it’s going to be like when it comes.
I support the initiative because it gives patients autonomy over the manner in which they die. It offers compassion to those who are already terminal. I think society has a strong interest in preserving life, but sometimes individual liberty is more important—like when you’re already dying and you’re trying to decide how you want that death to come about.
Also, some in the medical profession would tell you that PAS already occurs but under the radar. Legalizing it will lend an openness to the discussion.
Regarding “In Defense Of Dignity” and “Just Confused”:
Bravo, Amen, and Thank You!
the IV goes in the OTHER WAY – i.e. the needle points UP the arm and consequently the tubing will point roughly toward the hand.
Love you Dan.
Thank you, Dan. You really put the whole idea of dying in dignity in perspective. I intend to share your article with my friends who disagree with PAS.
Condolences to Dan, and thanks as well for writing the piece.
My father died of ALS about two years ago now. For those who don’t know, its a debilatating disease that literaly erodes your muscle function until you lose complete control of yourself, eventually causing organ failure. My father could talk, breathe, eat, walk…Nothing. He had a magnetic dot afixed to his forehead which allowed him to point to phrases on a computerized screen with what small amount of muscle control he still had in his neck.
Basically, he was a shell of a human with a still functioning and lucid mind. Fortunately for him, he was treating in Portland, Oregon, a State that ensures patients rights for death with dignity. There were no cures, there were no more options, all we had was heartbreak, a horrible disease, and a father that wanted to die without fear, and with his loving family around. He chose the medications, and he died with all of his friends and family by his side, holding hios hands and telling him they loved him.
This was by no means a hasty decision to end someones life. This was something long thought out and heavily argued in my family. Some were against it at the beginning, but as the end drew near, realized just what it all meant. For all those who oppose the initiative, I beg you to reconsider. There are provisions in the law that make it impossible to put to death a metally ill patient just becasue, or a depressed person becasue they want to die that day. Death with dignity is a well thought out, incredibly difficult decision. It takes couseling by doctors, numerous appointments with various types of consultation, and most importantly, a terminal illness that will without doubt cause death.
No one is advocating ending the lives of minorly ill patients…No one would want that for anybody. The point of this legislation is to ensure that the people who face the most excruciating deaths will be given some relief. By Washington State law, my father’s feeding tube would have have to been pulled, and we would have had to watch him slowly starve to death, all while gasping for air in double-pneumonia filled lungs. How is that fair to him? This way he was comfortable, surrounded by family and friends, and most importantly, my Mother, brothers and I got to be there to hold his hand and tell him we loved him.
Please think about the implications of your vote. This is something that may affect you on a profound level in the future. As Dan says, this won’t affect you if you don’t want it to, but please don’t take the choice away from those who really do need it.
My Mom died of cervical cancer at 90 years of age. She died here at home. We also had to administer morphine because of her pain. I was with her during her last few hours, putting cream on her face and hands, combing her hair, doing her nails (all the things she loved having me do to her), playing Cuban music and dancing around the room. I did not know whether she could hear or feel my touch, but at around 11:30 pm I fell asleep next to her (I was so exhausted by then, emotionally and physically). Her face was very peaceful. Then thirty minutes or so later I woke up and her hand was on my face and she had a lovely smile fixed on her face. She was gone. But her hand and her smile told me that she had heard me, she had felt my touch, she knew I was there with her. In spite of the morphine, she reached out to share her love one last time. Finally, she was without pain. But my pain had just begun.
Although I cherish the precious time spent with her during her last 30 days, I also knew that if there had been an alternative, she would have chosen to have left this world without having felt all that pain and agony. And I would have welcomed such an alternative for her, because it was awful to have to drug her so she could extend her existence (not “life”) a few more weeks.
I disagree with those who are hell-bent on preventing each one of us from choosing how we exit from our lives. Our final moments on Earth should not be politicized or ruled by any religion or church. It is a private moment in the life of a human being.
Thank you, Dan, for sharing your most touching moments with your mother.
Dan,
I wish I could have had the opportunity to sit in front of the fireplace with your mom, drinking scotch and shooting the shit. She sounds like a brave and intelligent woman, much like her son, and the “quote” you gave re: church leaders raping children and micromanaging individual’s last breaths made me want to run up Capitol Hill to hunt you down and high-five you. Your story was powerful and heartbreaking. You’re viewpoints are brilliant. I kind of wish you ran the world. I was already for I-1000 before reading your article and empathising with the personal hell your mother, you, and the rest of your family went through, and I hope that others will be open-minded and supportive and help get this Initiative passed. My fingers are crossed.
Yes.
And yes.
The only objections I hear or read are fear-based: of creeping forced euthanasia, or the like. Religions do play the fear card well – It’s all dey got.
I experienced the same fate with my mother, five years ago. I still miss her, but in time only the sweetness remains.
“God” bless, Dan.
Dan… I am so sorry. I would hold the glass of water to my mother’s lips, too. Why do they deny us this?
My thoughts are with you and your family.
Dan my grandpa also died of Pulmonary Fibrosis. He only lasted 3 months after being diagnosed. If I could have spared him and my family the pain I would have.
Thanks Dan. For sharing a deeply personal moment and for discussing a subject that will impact even more people than sex does. Death, and how it happens in modern medicine, is something our society has refused to acknowledge honestly for far too long. I decided after my own fathers death that I would be clear and honest about what killed him-a morphine overdose. Said overdose self administered in the midst of a painfull and futile struggle against an incurable cancer; but still the true cause of his death was massive levels of morphine.
The inablity of the foes of Death with Dignity initiative to acknowledge the simple fact that most American’s who die in hospice situations die this way is an intellectual and moral dishonesty. We are already speeding along the final days/weeks/hours of virtually any terminal patient in hospital/hospice care situation right now, but continue to maintain the “palliative care” fiction. Find me a doctor, nurse, or professional hospice worker who says differently.
The bottom line is that we die-this is not an opt out situation for anyone afterall-gay, straight, catholic, muslim, jew, pentecostal, or agnostic we all must shuffle off this mortal coil. I want to choose the level of pain and suffering I may endure. Neither I-1000, nor I, seek to impose a standard of acceptable pain and suffering, but to simply allow those who choose to honestly confront their own need, in their own time, in their own manner. I actually have some resources for the illegal purchase of opiate based drugs(shocking I know)I-1000 simply makes this possible for those who don’t have access to the illegal market, and removes the ridiculous “warnings” about “overdose” that my fathers doctor was legallly compelled to deliver.
My dad always insisted we be honest as a family, with our love, with our intellects, and with our spirits.
It’s time we all be honest about how we want to die.
Hey Dan,
I went through a similar experience with my Grandmother a few years ago, when she passed away from Emphysema with all of us standing around her bed. I still don’t know if I would choose the path myself, but I wholeheartedly support a person’s choice at the last. Even Martin Sheen won’t dissuade me from voting in favor.
Barky
You continue to amaze me with your ability to put your life experiences, even your hardest life experiences, into such compelling words. I remain at once saddened by your pain yet amazed at how you reach through your pain to try to help someone else.
Thanks Dan for writing this powerful essay. My mother was recently diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis and has started using a portable oxygen tank. It’s scary. I dread the day when she may have to go through some of the things your mother did as she battles this disease. I can only hope that when her time comes, she has some ability to choose how she goes and that her family can be near her to help her in any way we can.
Dan,
I’m so sorry. It’s hard to know what to say, except to say that your mother must have been a remarkable woman to have raised someone like you with integrity, compassion and tolerance. You honour her whenever you display those traits.
Please accept my deepest condolences for your loss.
Warmest regards,
Steven
Dan, I’m a practicing Episcopalian who supports end of life choices. My heart aches for you and your family. I hope your words help other people understand that this issue isn’t about “assisted suicide”; it’s about dignity, and love. Above all, love. I would never want my parents to suffer if they had other options. I hope someone formerly opposed will read your column and decides to support I-1000.
Dan,
Thank you for a powerful and touching article, and my condolences.
I lost my dad to cancer five years ago, and the doctors told him he had a week to live. And it wasn’t going to be a very pleasant week either: they said it was likely to be full o pain, with a good chance of dementia and incontinence before it was over.
Fortunately he had the connections to get enough pills to escape such a horrible fate, and he died with his mind intact.
This should be a RIGHT, he should not have had to depend on underground connections.
To Joel Connelly and his ilk: if your God is sick and twisted enough to demand that you have to go through a week of suffering like that, that’s your business. But if you try to deny the rest of us our right to choose a pain-free, dignified end because you think it’s not “moral” or “family values”, then fuck your God. Vote Yes on I-1000.
Dear Dan,
I am the widow referenced in your Feature Article who supports Death With Dignity, I-1000. Thank you for telling your story. Your pain saddened me. I cannot understand the kind of thinking from someone who never met my husband nor met your mother but insists they have the right to tell them how long they had to suffer. It is horrible to have someone you love beg to die so they can be free from their pain and know there’s nothing you can do. I understand people may oppose this for religious reasons but our country was founded on a separation between church and state. I hope some day we find our way back to that liberty.
She whom we love
and lose
is no longer
where she was before.
She is now
wherever we are.
St. John Chrysostom
I cannot express my agreement with “Yes on I-1000” strongly enough, and your mother’s situation is an example. It appears that she had a reasonably peaceful death, but she might have chosen differently earlier in the progression of her illness if the option had been available to her. I’m 71 years old, still healthy, and a firm believer that what happens to me at the end of my life should be MY choice. I’m 100% nonreligious and strongly resent the intrusion of religious types into what should be a personal decision between the patient and her doctor. What I do with MY body is no business of theirs. I thought that 40 years ago when I was concerned about a woman’s ability to terminate an unwanted pregnancy and I think that now when the issue will be how I choose t0 end my life.
I am glad you wrote this Dan. My condolences to you.
My father died 5 weeks ago after suffering with colon cancer for 2 years. He finally stopped chemo when the tests came back that it wasn’t helping much…he wanted a better quality of life until he died. I wonder if Connelly would think that anyone who did that was trying to kill themselves.
His body eventually broke down so much that his legs stopped working (not sure how to describe it other than he just lost the ability to move around.) A short time later he was found by police on a welfare call from the neighbors. His body temp was 79 degrees and all of his organs were shutting down.
When the doctors were warming his body up in an effort to save him, he was fighting them…would that be considered suicide? 14 hours later he was gone. But really, how much pain was he in? I know he would have had doctors help him once his mobility was gone. Once he would have depended on others to do the basic functions of life. Instead he died, alone and in pain. This is the memory I will have of the end of my fathers life….and that hurts.
Thank you for sharing your story, and I’m so sorry for your loss.
Everyone should have a choice about how to end their life. I think it would be very difficult for me to choose to die, but I would never want to deny that choice to others.
Dan:
I’ve been reading you since you started Savage Love, and feel you have given your readers the gift of a substantial
amount the wisdom and perspective that characterized your mom. You shared with us how she helped you be the person you are, and quoted her enough that I feel like I got to know her a little bit through you. Thank you for sharing this so personal righteous fury. Your mom rocked, and she, as well as the rest of us should get to pass the way we want to, but simple things like that are easily lost in the haze of superstition. Now, though, from a Catholic mom perspective…We should all pass with our children and loved ones weeping at our feet..you and I are from similar backgrounds Dan, and I can see a heaven where she’s sitting around a card table with the friends she loved the most looking exactly the way she is in her own minds eye, telling the story to her friends…and she is proud of the dignity with which she passed, because although she may have been terrified of dying in pain, according the the rules of the game of life that you sign up for as a Christian, that may be a possibility and to win at the game and go to heaven, you may have to die that way. So she did. And she did – she won .
Jesus died in pain and Christians believed they are somehow purified by the agony he suffered, and have been living through this for two thousand years. They’ve got it all wrong. They’ve taken some teachings from a nice Jewish revolutionary and wrapped a death cult around it. So yes, fuck that particular version of god.
And I know I would hold the glass to my Mom’s lips too, but then she wouldn’t get to win her particular version of the game and that’s important. Your Mom had you right there with her and got choices, and her family in puddles at her feet- in my book you did just right by her…..love you Dan, keep it comin’ read “if”
While your piece did not convince me (as I couldn’t agree more with you than I already do), it did reduce me to tears. Thank you for that beautiful piece, and I’m so, so sorry.
Oh, Dan. I’m so sorry your and your family had to endure such suffering. This piece was absolutely gut-wrenching, and I don’t see how someone could read it and come out against this initiative. Compassion and common sense demand that this pass.
My deepest condolences to your family, and I dearly hope the morphine eased your mom’s last moments here. So, so sorry.
Thank you for this angry and intelligent and fair and reasonable and truly human face that you have put on this issue. Great Job.
While I already believed in being able to choose to end your suffering with dignity and without pain, and thus this was a bit of preaching to the choir – even if I did not your story would have convinced me. I was brought to tears by it and once more am deeply sorry for your loss.
Damn straight, Mr. Savage; that is a child’s duty, and an honor.
That was incredibly powerful. Thank you for writing it.
Dan,
Thank you for sharing this with us – you family ar ein my thoughts, and your suffering is on the hands of all those who conspired to deny your mother the right to an easy death.
Thank you for your courage and wisdom
Rog
Heavens, this made me cry. You’re absolutely right, Dan, noone should have to go through that shit – I know I’d rather end my own life, on my own terms and of my own volition, than die slowly and/or in pain.
Any dog who’s terminally ill gets better treatment than that. Nobody would object taking a dog to the vet and putting him to sleep when there’s no chance for recovery anymore and when the only choice is whether his death should be slow and painful or quick and painless, yet we don’t do the same thing for humans; we aren’t allowed to, and just because some old fart in a funny hat in Rome thinks it’s against his religion.
It’s insane.
Thank you for sharing this….
My condolences to you and your family.
I cried.
I live in the Netherlands and I’m so glad I have these options available to me. My father didn’t have them, my mother did. She didn’t need them in the end but it was of great comfort to know she could leave at a moment’s notice. That was probably the best pain-management she had in her last month.
Dan, my condolences and I wish you and your family a lot of strength in the days and weeks and months and years ahead.
Superb Dan. Thanks for turing your tragedy into a learning moment for the rest of us. I admire your courage and prose.
Jesus, Dan, I am so sorry…
I have been a nurse for 24 years. helath care people have been quietly speeding the death of patients for hundreds of years. Your mom’s nurse should have medicated her more often after asking you if she seemed to be in pain.
I was deeply moved by the eloquence of your words. I totally agree that death with dignity should be an available option.
You enjoy the best wishes of your wide audience.
Ivar Husa
Euthanasia is a sin, until the Pope does it. Pope John Paul turned down medical treatment and his final words were “Let me go to the house of the Father” according to documents released by the Vatican. Details at tinyurl.com/3l7krn
I wish you and your family well. Thank you for letting your mother make her choice. You are right. Fuck their god!
i’m really glad you have had this opportunity to express yourself but sad at the experiences you report.
your mothers pain pains me too.
your views seem reasonable and balanced and would be supported by the majority of my countrymen and many other countries that REALLY honour peoples lives individually by giving them the space to be logically and rationally decisive.
this is what people deserve in the advanced civilisation we have created.
anyone that would like to see progress in the arena of self determination would be well advised never to vote for anyone that believes in god. people that believe in god also believe they know what is the best for you. that is, they believe you are not capable of making the best decision for yourself because god is the only one that can.
what a load of nonsense.
Twice today I have wanted to cheer for you.
thank you for saying what you say.
Warm thoughts, mental hugs, and lots of good wishes to you and your family Dan. I recently went through nearly the identical situation, watching my father die of COPD, so I can relate.
It took three days of his struggling for every breath. For the first two days, he was medicated with narcotics at a level that deadened any physical pain, but left him conscious and alert, so he got to experience the horrible feeling of desperately trying to breath.
(Folks, if you’d like an empirical experience, take a pencil, and use it to punch a SMALL hole in a baggie. Then hold that baggie to your face and try to breathe through it. See if you can make it for 5 minutes struggling for each breath before you can’t stand it any more. Now, contemplate TWO DAYS AND NIGHTS of that sensation, with your only choice at the end of those two days being death.)
Finally(!!), the doctors and nurses increased his prescription level to the point where he was essentially unconscious for the last 4 or 5 hours of his life.
My dad was at least semi-religious, so I don’t know if he would have chosen an assisted suicide if it were available. But under those same circumstances, I know that *I* would have.
Does that make me weak in the eyes of some? Does that offend the religiosity of some? I don’t much care.
It’s my life, it’s my death. It’s none of anybody else’s freaking business. I’ll make the choice. If the time comes for that choice, and the choice is still illegal, then I’ll figure out a way to smuggle a Hemlock and Seconal smoothie into the ICU.
Thank you, Dan, for sharing that beautiful essay. I don’t remember ever reading something in the Stranger that made me cry like that.
Dan,
I am truly sorry to hear about what you went through. I lost my father to suicide earlier this year, and a friend of mine lost hers about a year ago in a similar fashion to what happened to you. The only difference was, her family was forced to to make the decision to take her father off life support, which was an unthinkable position for anyone to be in.
Just cherish all of the joy that she brought you in her lifetime. It’s going to be painful, whether you watched your loved one die, or whether it was sudden and shocking as in the case of my father. This is what I wrote about it a few days after Dad died:
http://listentoleon.net/index.php/2008/04/09/i-love-you-dad/
It helped a lot to get things off my chest, so I’m sure that your writing this will prove therapeutic in the long run. Stay strong.
Leon
“Every society that has adopted these laws, sooner or later, falls prey to indifference and apathy over the killing of supposedly unproductive human beings. That spreads to all of us.”
Got actual evidence?
There is currently a discussion of this article and issue at Metafilter
http://www.metafilter.com/75546/Death-with-dignity
The “those who’re opposed have the option not to” argument can be used to argue in favor of all sorts of things. If you’re against rape, then don’t rape someone. If you’re opposed to murder, child molestation, domestic violence, the looting of the third world’s resources, etc., then don’t do it. Just don’t interfere with my “right” to do so. Situational ethics once again. There’s no ultimate right or wrong, and everything — everything — becomes permissible. Do you want NAMBLA (North American Man-Boy Love Association) to have that opportunity? You can even justify terrorist acts that way.
Dan – I fell in love with your mother when she would join you on your KCMU radio program. She (and you) are rare, precious people.
Bruce
Mike T. Said:
“The “those who’re opposed have the option not to” argument can be used to argue in favor of all sorts of things…”
Your argument is deeply flawed. Everything you listed involves an interaction without the consent of all parties. In contrast, I-1000 is about people’s right to control THEIR OWN lives. Can you see the difference?
Dan, I just have to say I’m weeping for you, your family, your mother, and all of us who have had or will have to face this situation.
You’re right about what the compassionate and sane option is.
This is the most moving defense of assisted suicide I’ve ever read. Thank you for sharing your story (given how difficult it was to read, I can only imagine how hard it was to write). It angers me that these people – religious or otherwise – who pretend to care so much about life, give no thought to what that life consists of. They completely ignore happiness and emotional or physical pain simply because they refuse to acknowledge that what constitutes life isn’t black-or-white. How can they possibly believe forcing someone to survive in a state of unknown pain is part of “God’s plan” instead of torture? How dare they claim that denying someone’s basic right to be legally (in addition to emotionally and sometimes spiritually) bound to the one they love is “pro-life”? Nothing could be more “anti-life”. If pro-life means pro-a life stripped of liberty, individualism, dignity, or happiness, then I could not be more “anti-life”. If, however, we consider a “pro-life” position to be in support of happiness and freedom, in favor of living life to one’s fullest potential, then I, and you (my good sir) are two of the most adamant defenders of life I know.
Dan – I’ve enjoyed your cutting, valuable insights for years now. Thank you for writing this column at such a difficult time…what you’ve said is so important, and needs to be heard.
I had to make choices about the end of my son’s life, and the legal right to make those choices was so absolutely critical to doing the right thing for him. To not have those rights would have made letting go of my son (unimaginably) more difficult than it was. Thank you for using your public forum to share this stuff. I didn’t know your mother, but from what you’ve written about her, I’m sure she would be proud of you.
Dan:
Thank you.
First and foremost, my condolences to you and your family, Dan.
When my mother sat my brother and I down one day three years ago and told us my grandfather was dying, we did what a grown daughter and an old-enough son should do. We held her hands when tears streamed down her face, telling us he had stage four lung cancer (which made sense, he smoked his entire life) and he had less than three months to live. Something inside of me knew he wouldn’t last that long, and my mother must have known, too. She flew up to New Jersey and didn’t come back until he was gone. It was decided we would go to our first days of school, and we would leave immediately when something happened.
The day or two before school started, I got The Phone Call. The one where my grandfather was definitely going to die much sooner than anyone expected (even though everybody kinda knew) and I needed to say goodbye. I don’t remember what I said, other than the words, “I love you” about fifty billion times. It was sad. My mother’s boyfriend at the time (who had just entered our lives within the last two years, and wouldn’t marry her until the following year) wasn’t much use, but my brother held my hand for much of the next several days.
As was my custom at the time, I had lunch with my grandmother before my afternoon class. When I came inside, she held me tighter than usual and kissed my cheek and told me he was gone, that he had died two hours ago. I cried for a while, we talked, and I went to my night class as though nothing had happened.
We, my future step-father, my brother, and I, left at four the following morning and drove from Floria to New Jersey to go to the funeral. I didn’t cry until they started playing Taps, which I didn’t expect-it wasn’t a church funeral (he wasn’t terribly religious), and though he was in the service, I was a 20-something anti-war hippie and didn’t think I would cry. I cried like a fucking baby, and one of my many cousins had to hold my hand for the rest of it.
I often wonder what he would think of me. He, born in the 30s, veteran of two wars, who in life thought the purple nail polish I favored was a little garish and unbecoming to a woman, had a grandchild who moved to the big city and chose to live her life on her own terms. How he would feel if he knew a black man was running for president, and that some of his children and nearly all his of-age grandchildren were voting for him.
I remember my mother telling me he knew he was going to die on Monday (he did) and that all he wanted to do was die at home. He did not. He had no time to get his affairs in order, beyond various agreements with his children. He barely had time to get the rest of the abnormally large extended family on the phone before he died.
I’ve never had the nerve to ask my mother if he had had the opportunity to make the choice to take a little too much medication and go when he was ready. I hope he did. Every terminal patient should. And I would have helped him.
Thank you for sharing your story with us Dan. My heart goes out to you. 1000 has my yes vote.
That’s the story no god worshiper ever thinks about when they come out against the right to die. Love and peace to you and your family…and your mom.
I wrote this as a response to your article, Dave :
The day before my father died
http://culturekitchen.com/liza/blog/the_day_before_my_father_died
Thanks so much for talking this incredibly important issue. If I could vote for Initiative 1000, I would.
You have my deepest sympathy on the death of your mother.
If we are denied autonomy over our physical bodies, then what rights do we truly have? Self determination has to include the right to determine the manner and time of one’s death, should one so choose.
–a hospice nurse
Thank you for your family’s story, Dan. I can’t really express my gratitude properly right now, because my own mother just passed away on October 8, after a brief but painful struggle with cancer. In the moment of her dying, we were unable to persuade the EMT’s that her long-standing “Do Not Resuscitate” order was a valid legal document (this was in Michigan), and she suffered under their attentions for most of an hour.
It’s my sincerest hope that Initiative 1000 passes, to spare other suffering patients and their families what ours went through. My mother was a staunch supporter of choice in dying, and was fully aware but unable to express her wishes. In her memory, I ask all who read this to consider the magnitude of suffering in the world and grant others the ability to choose for themselves how they will pass from among us.
So I’m not the only one brought to tears at work. Powerful piece.
My dad has moved from “don’t let her (my mom) unplug me” to “you’ll find my corpse in the woods, frozen, with a bottle of liquor, when it’s my time to go”.
Thank you for writing this. I had a very similar experience with my Mother as she died about one year ago. It was such a powerful experience and you captured it beautifully. The arguments over I-1000 make my head hurt. I fully respect a religious objection but simply cannot understand the need to impose that view on those of us who support the initiative.
So beautifully and compellingly written- it hurt to read it.
Thank you Dan.
My sympathies to you and your family, and I salute your for your courage in speaking up.
My father went through a similar ordeal with non-Hodgkins lymphoma. In a better world, he wouldn’t have had to suffer through his last month of life.
I watched my grandfather die while tied against his explicit living will because the Las Vegas hospital decided to misplace it and deny knowing about it. I saw him spend days withering under relentless painful double lung cancer. Finally, even the machines began to fail to keep him alive, and the hospital belatedly agreed to disconnect him when the air pumps could no longer function correctly.
Thanks, Las Vegas. I salute you Dan. You handled it. I cried so hard it scared me. I hated to see him suffer because religion was used to predetermine his rights.
Demopoly
Well Said. My condolences to you and your family. Thank you for speaking out and for doing so so eloquently.
Dear Dan,
Thank you so much for writing about this. I can’t imagine how much strength it must have taken to write, let alone publish. Ever since a debate class in high school, I’ve been on the fence about this topic. But as I sat in the Woodinville Park & Ride reading this today, I couldn’t help but burst into uncontrollable sobs. You are so right. This is so well written, and I think your strongest argument is the one about “the hour chosen by God”. If we can preserve people in vegetated states, why can’t we release them into their final relief, if they so chose? Thank you, Dan, for really opening my eyes to this. I know what I’ll be voting.
I am a grown man who wept alone in a Wallingford coffee house today reading your article. The hardest thing to do in life is indeed life its self, to be mortal. I recently cooked dinner at the Bailey-Boushay House and had the honor to be surrounded by people who would have an ultimately unique perspective on this article I’m sure. Thank you Dan.
– Garin Wedeking
Dan, I am so sorry for your loss. I have so much admiration for your mother, what I know of her from your books. Thank you, as always, for defending choice.
Do you have a link that I could throw money at to help the cause?
This summer I read aloud “The Commitment” to my boyfriend. We loved “The Mad Clipper.” We are so sorry for your loss.
My condolences, Dan, to you and your family. May the memory of your mother be for a blessing.
I stand with you on I-1000 and it *will* get my vote.
So sorry Dan. Powerful words.
Dear Dan, I’m so sorry. Your stories about your mother have given me some sense of the love you and your family have for each other. Thank you for the gift of sharing her spirit with us over the years. I also have a similar story and wish a different choice had been possible.
With tears streaming down my face, I am writing this comment.
Dan, you and your family have my deepest sincerest empathy. My beloved Grandmother died a few years ago of pancreatic cancer. Years before her diagnosis, Grandma let me know know that she had a cache of “medicine” that would end her life if the pain of living became too much. She was terrified of being “tied to machines” that forced her body to go on living when she was ready to die. Grandma felt that NO ONE had a right to tell her how to live her life or how to die. She was all for doctor assisted suicide and did not understand why anyone would be aganist it.
Even though I am crying like a baby right now, this article reminded me of just how much I loved my Grandma and how important it is that we all have a choice in our own lives and death. Thank you, Dan.
There’s a church at the end of my block who had a “No I-1000” sign in the corner of it’s lawn. because of you i knew what it was. i then stole that sign and used the picket to put an Obama sign on my lawn.
There’s a difference between medically prolonging death and suicide. Suicide is the wrong word. Bodies as well as minds have a certain wisdom, and they should be allowed to shut down when it is time–but that’s the rub isn’t it–when is it time?
What if some enabling system evolved that wafted us off before it was our time. It would be easier than getting sick and dying, wouldn’t it? Just lying down and falling to sleep…but I want to rage against the dying of the light and see it go. I don’t care much about dignity–being born wasn’t dignified, sex isn’t dignified, giving birth wasn’t dignified, and I don’t expect death will be dignified, either. But fuck dignity. I want to be there. And I don’t want people palliating me out of my own death out of kindness–or worse motives.
I am a long time reader/fan and would, like the many others, offer my condolences to you and your family.
Assisted suicide for lack of a better term–and we need one) should not be construed as a form of eugenics. Remember people, eugenics tends not to involve personal choice. Geez!
And, all that business about assisted suicide being a profit-driven option is just ridiculous. What about the profit to be gained by keeping someone alive and in an expensive hopsital room/on expensive machines and therapies? (Before anyone freaks out and thinks I’m suggesting that we should deny such treatment options, I’m not. I’m talking about the right to choose.)
I can’t say anything that hasn’t been said at this point so I’ll reiterate. You can’t know what aging will do to you or your loved ones. You can’t assume that your body and mind will be intact. Yet, In this youth-obsessed, consumer-driven, celebrity-saturated culture, we see less and less free range aging. I wonder to what degree this informs people’s opinions about I-1000.
This was a beautifully painful, emotive piece, Dan. You and your family are in my prayers and I want you to know that I am a Christian that agrees with the majority of your points (except for the part where you said to fuck my God but that’s beyond the point)
It is illogical to oppose assisted suicide and focus on prolonging the life of those that have already run out of life. Your article reminded me of Swift’s “Gulliver’s Travels”, specifically his travel to Laputa where he met the race of the immortals that were unhappy because they couldn’t die.
Medical advances are meant for the benefit of the people–a peaceful, pain reduced death should be one of those benefits.
Dan – please accept my heart-felt sympathy. Your mother was a wonderful woman to have brought up a son like you.
Thank you, Dan. I am an ordained minister, a graduate of a concervative (Southern Baptist) seminary, but I absolutely agree with you on this one, and on many other issues as well. Keep it up. And may your mom rest in peace.
I’m so very sorry for your loss.
Thank you Dan for your story, I know I can’t relate because I fortunately have not yet had to see either of my parents die, but I have to say that I’m with Jeffery and Elise Golin.
There are terminally ill adults who are capable of making the choice to live or die, who are aware of their surroundings, who can decide if they would like to go quickly. But what about those who are more terrified of dying than of pain? You say that the widow who doesn’t want to opt for assisted suicide won’t have to. Maybe not now. But what if one day an insurance company or hospital can decide that it’s better to give her a lethal dose of morphine than spend money on life support, and she would rather have a few more days with her caregivers?
What starts as people wanting to end their lives at the hour of their choosing rather than the hour of God’s choosing may end at pepople having their lives ended at the hour of the state’s choosing.
Right now, I think that I don’t want for machines to keep me alive. But I don’t know how I’ll feel once I’m there. And I’m afraid that if euthanasia becomes legalized, one day I won’t have the choice to be hooked to the machines if I want to.
Good article.
The fear of de slippery slope of euthanasia sofar proved to be wrong here in the Netherlands. On the countrary, in the last year a shift to palliative sedation has become visible. I do not wonder wether that’s a result of an increasingly christian government. I know it is. I despise their role in de euthanasia debate, which they are blocking by every means.
A rather wierd difference between here and the other side of the ocean seems te be that we can have physicians perform euthanasia. If done according to the rules, there will be no prosecution.
Assisting in suicide however, is prohibited by law and that is what I get from Dan’s article is being asked for.
Yeah, I do think people should be able to choose their death. I even think it is a VERY important right.
I watched my mother and my son die painful deaths. She was 87. He was 11. She was in a nursing home with a head nurse who asked us if we wanted to “let her go”. We said yes. The nurse gave her “something for her pain” and she drifted off, finally ending her labored breathing and moaning.
My son was in an ICU and got minimal pain meds, because the ICU doctors were determined to save him, even though his immune system had shut down and he had an overwhelming blood infection that all their antibiotics weren’t touching.
I had to watch as they “brought him back” time after time when his heart and breathing stopped. I knew he was dead. I had “felt” him leave when he died the first time his heart stopped. When I think of his death, I remember the horror of watching this and it’s like I’m there again, even though it was over two years ago.
I’m not a religious person and I’m very angry that religious people want to force the rest of us to live by their beliefs. My mother asked me to let her go many times before she died. She was tired, in pain and ready to stop fighting. She was a Christian and believed that she was going to an afterlife where she’d be with all the people she loved, who had died before her.
If we can’t choose the time and circumstances of our deaths, we’re not free. If we don’t own our own bodies, then someone else does – the state or the church. That’s just not right in a country that claims to be “the land of the free”.
Lill
My condolences to your family, and thank you for having the courage to share this. My grandfather is suffering the same now and while I am grateful for every day we have now, I also hope that he will be well enough to be able to stay home until the end.
I don’t want him to suffer, but I also want it to be his choice when he takes off the oxygen and decides to go. He shouldn’t have to suffer when there hasn’t been hope or a cure or any improvement for years. Why would anyone wish suffering on someone else?
Thanks for putting into words the difficult situation that all of us in our generation will face. I’m so sorry that you and your wonderfully supportive mother had to experience such emotional pain, but I hope part of her legacy will be the human right to choose for ourselves how to live throughout our lives and how to die with dignity.
Stunningly powerful.
Thank you.
Why do people make up reasons to be against things? “Laws morph over time” my ass. Look at the second amendment. The gun fanatics of the country have kept that thing going strong since the beginning of the country. Granted it’s an amendment, not a law.
I just don’t get it. If you’re afraid of making a law that allows doctor assisted suicide because it MIGHT change into something you fear, why aren’t you afraid of capital punishment laws? What if that morphs over time into “Anyone who ever commits a crime can be killed on sight”? None of these right wing nutjobs ever worried about that do they? So why for doctor assisted suicide?
And what do they fear the doctor assisted suicide law will morph into? All suicides legal? But again, why are they afraid of that? If they don’t want to commit suicide, they still don’t have to.
Sorry, had to get that off my chest first. I’m terribly sorry for your loss Dan. I am also infinitely appreciative that you were able to and wiling to write so powerfully and rationally about something so painful.
Beautifully written Thank you.
I am currently living with Pulmonary Fibrosis. It’s an ugly disease, and a rare one, so money for research is scarce.
Your family is in my prayers. My man and I have had the conversation. He’s a physician. We made our choice.
Ultimately, it really should be our choice, not anyone else’s.
Best mojo to you, my friend.
I understand the hurt and pain because the same thing happened to me, except I had to stand alone beside the hospital bed as my mother gasped her last breaths with a fearful, pained look on her face. I’ll always wonder about the nurse standing there with the syringe of morphine asking me what do I think we should do about the pain she was in. Was she asking if I thought she should inject a fatal amount of the drug? I didn’t know what to think or say when she asked that.
I am a long time reader (both books, your column) and am a doctor, too. I would like to pass on my deepest condolences to you, Terry and DJ. By all accounts, your mother was a remarkable woman, and a role model for me as a mother. I would like to make a point, though. You know, giving morphine to a patient in extremis almost always hastens death. It does so by acting on the centres of the brain which control respiration, reducing the brain’s sensitivity to low levels of oxygen, and therefore the perception that more oxygen is required for life. this is what stops breathing in drug overdoses too. You might wonder why i am saying this, but it relates to the fact that in most cases, when we administer morphine to aid in a persons last hours or days, we as doctors are knowingly speeding death. What the hell is the difference between this and assisted suicide? In essence, we are assisting anyway, whilst pushing the entire burden of decisions relating to the shortening of life onto our patients families. What was that doctor doing, really, except making you all responsible for your mothers last hours? As a human being, a mother, a sister and daughter, I would like people to be more honest about these times at the end of life. i would like to see doctors being more responsible for managing patients, rather than insisting families making decisions that can haunt them forever. I would entirely support the right of any person to die with dignity, in the time and manner of their choosing.
Most of all, Dan, I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing your life with us, at the hard as well as the easy times. You are an inspiration to us. I wish you all the best, and will remember your mother in the spirit in which you have described her.
Wow. Wonderfully written. If we ever have this initative in Montana I will support it whole heartedly.
Thank you, Dan. That was beautiful, and painful, and sad, and so so right.
My condolences to you and your family.
Thank you, Dan. Thank you.
After ten years of hospice work in Washington State, I’ve had it, too. Let people go out the way that makes them happiest.
You’re a wonderful writer, and a wonderful human being, and I wish you every good thing.
Aw, Christ. I haven’t read the WA legislation (I’m not in WA, lest you worry), but I support the concept and trust Dan on it. Like almost everyone, I’ve been there as a bystander too… but as a supporter, I have to be sure of my logic. So — “WTF, linda?” — sorry, but I’m going to have to pick yours apart:
“In essence, we are assisting anyway, whilst pushing the entire burden of decisions relating to the shortening of life onto our patients families. What was that doctor doing, really, except making you all responsible for your mothers last hours?”
If we roll with Dan (and our personal convictions) and say it’s all about the *patient’s* choice, is this responsibility a problem? We only get to choose certain parts of our families (subject to legal restriction, offer may be void outside of CA, CT, MA) but the legal concept of “next of kin” as the default is longstanding, and for now, patients should expect it applies unless they’ve executed documents stating otherwise (and made sure their medical providers are aware of them — another big mess!).
“As a human being, a mother, a sister and daughter, I would like people to be more honest about these times at the end of life.”
Fair enough. Honesty is always the best policy, right?
“i would like to see doctors being more responsible for managing patients, rather than insisting families making decisions that can haunt them forever. I would entirely support the right of any person to die with dignity, in the time and manner of their choosing.”
Reconcile that: Doctors should be more honest about end-of-life care, but should also “manage” the patient to shield the family from having to make the substantive choices?
Shee-it. That makes things like the insurance catch-22s look simple in comparison. So let’s try this:
*Doctors* should be spared from making the decision whenever possible, foremost because being permitted is going to fuck up doctors. The scenarios that really make us squirm — euthanasia for babies in the Netherlands, mercy-killings during Katrina, the occasional nutjob playing God, and all the slippery-slope scenarios that exist only in imaginations — have that element in common. People in the medical profession have too many decisions to make under pressure already, and there’s no way for them to win at this one.
When we’re not terminally ill: Who wants the doctor or EMT with that option available? The one who has exercised that option without patient/family/… input? How many times? It’s unfair to everyone, and if it ever does have to happen, someone else should always have to sign off on it before or soon after, so the *doctors* can be sure they’re not playing God or losing their minds. That would also check any who might be, of course… As a public, we need to believe caregivers are putting their jobs and standing on the line when they exercise this most drastic option alone; anything else erodes our faith in the medical industry, even if it’s unreasonable. If next-of-kin aren’t around, they’ll *always* need to see sincere apologies and begging for forgiveness, for instance, not confidence that this is business as usual.
As to morphine, there’s no reason to beat around the bush unless you’re determined to be intellectually dishonest: The best *palliative care*, like all treatments, has risk — in this case, respiratory depression. If you understand the disease process you’re treating, it should be hard to say that it’s doing harm — unless, of course, you go overboard intentionally and interrupt that process without consent.
I could say a lot more here, and I’ve probably stepped over too many fine points in the name of brevity (and it’s already been three hours writing this!) but how about this? The Schiavo mess showed us that we (as individuals, and as a society and a nation with the ability to legislate and adjudicate and clear this stuff up) need to become a lot more sure about who gets to make the call — and that includes who gets to make the call when nobody else is around.
Mandating electronic medical records might make it easier to actually pull up your living will when it’s needed (if you’ve got one, and would dare say anything about assistance in it), but even that’s just a start. We need to get everyone to accept, and truly believe, that those declarations mean something — and in a world with assistance available, understand what the conditions are, so that everyone can be comfortable that it’s being done right and having only the positive effects that it should. While we’re at it, let’s fix health care, organ shortages, and the economy.
Yikes. And my condolences again, Dan.
My mother died in a remarkably similar way in November, choking on water filled lungs and I was right there holding her hand.
My father, who is a physician was handling her care and pain management, and I was desperate for him to assist the process along, because it was clear to me that she was in a lot of pain.
I understand why he wouldn’t make that choice, but my own position on the matter is now crystal clear. It is inhumane not to offer people an opportunity to skip that kind painful, horrible, and horrifying end.
Your writing about your mother makes me cry, and my thoughts are often with you and your family.
You and your family have my condolences. Having buried my whole family on both sides–all but three–over the years, I have been there many times, and the last time wasn’t any easier than the first.
I’m sympathetic to your feelings, even the anger which comes out. I agree it should be between a patient and her physician, with any of the family that the patient cares to bring in to talk about it with.
Unfortunately, while the patient is alone, the physician isn’t. The physician is subject to a thousand rules and regulations, and except rather rarely the physician, technically, isn’t even employed by the patient, but by the patient’s healthcare provider. There is a lot of bureaucracy involved. How often over the years I heard doctors say, “I’d love to help you but …” or “I’m sorry, but my hands are tied,” or “It’s simply not our policy,” or variations on that trope. The one that always has irritated me the most is, “The benefits have run out. There’s simply nothing we can do. She has to be out by tomorrow.”
I’m not worried about ‘Death Doctors’ going around and injecting patients willy-nilly. I am worried when I see how persuasive medical people can be. Ill and dying people aren’t stupid, but often, neither are they immune from pressure. They may love you, and have their own desires, but they know that their fate rests in the hands of the attending physician, not you. And the attending physician is himself subject to pressures of you know not what kind from the institutions where he works and the bureaucracies that pay him.
I wonder why there is a felt need for this law when patients can already make choices that allow them to pass in a way conformable to their wishes. With my mother it was cancer, and she opted to decline all therapy and simply go on massive pain medication until the end came. She felt nothing after she made that decision, and the end came quickly. One aunt and my grandparents were able to make similar choices, though I can’t speak for other relatives who died suddenly or away from hospital conditions.
And if this measure became law, would statistics on it be published? Would the public be allowed to know how many instances of PAS occurred in this State over a given time frame, and under what conditions? Not if Oregon is any example. It would only add to the amount of stuff going on that we don’t know. Suppose a patient passes suddenly naturally with a family member not there. What will keep that member from suspecting a PAS that didn’t happen? What about family members that are divided in their opinion? I can easily see ugly bedside quarrels over this subject; there are already so many over others. If Mom passes suddenly, who’s to say one child didn’t encourage a PAS because he wanted her house?
With so many choices already available, with DNRs and physicians already willing to cooperate with patients to a great extent, as much as they can, I just see this not solving much, and creating many more problems than it addresses.
Thanks for sharing this. It made me cry.
I know that when my great grandmother was in her last few years of life, her doctor gave her an excessive prescription for a pain killer that she never used, for this exact reason. And when I found this out, I thought it was wonderful. Not because I wanted her to die, but because I didn’t want her to feel any more pain than she already had in the decade since her husband’s death.
Thank you, Dan. My heartfelt condolences. I’ve passed through something similar with my father.
But I wanted to say this– hospitals have got to set up a system whereby the staff knows that something serious is going down in the room. A little flag on the door– something for christ’s sake.
You had an orderly swinging in with a menu. In my case, my father had just passed–we were all awed at the sudden quiet and amazing transformation of his face. The family huddled around the bed in stunned silence. And in that frozen moment a jolly technician burst through the door and sang out “So how’s he doing today?”
We all blinked at him. He blinked at us. Finally I said, “Well.. he’s dead.”
It was sort of big question, you know? How is he? Where is he? The question struck me as very interesting, and kind of funny, and so in my shock, I wasn’t angry at the intrusion. I just stated it as fact.
The poor guy couldn’t run away fast enough.
Flags. Little flags. Or those cards that go on hotel doors: “Death in Progress”
Great piece, Dan. My mother died two years ago of IPF too. I don’t wish that kind of death, so cruelly slow, on my worst enemy, even less so on someone I love
It’s not my right, or my business to tell anybody how to conduct their lives or how they choose to die.
I don’t believe it is the governments or the church’s business either.
My father died much the same way as your mother and like your mother, I don’t know if he would have chosen the pills but I would have rather he had the choice and I know for CERTAIN I want the choice so I will be voting yes, come November.
Thanks for your post.. It was the tipping point for me.
thank you for sharing such a deeply personal event. i too want to have the choice. i will vote in favor of I-1000.
Thank you so much for sharing your family’s story, Dan. Wishing you all the happiest of memories and heartfelt best wishes.
Good gracious I appreciate you more than I could ever convey through a text-based format.
Thank you so much, Dan, and please …
PLEASE, run for some sort of office, and save this fucking mess of a world.
Janna Shields
Curiosity got the better of me. Here is the full text of the proposal, and I’d suggest all of you who are in WA read it, especially if you’re concerned about corner-cases:
http://www.secstate.wa.gov/elections/initiatives/text/i1000.pdf
Notably, it is written entirely from the perspective of *patient* choice, which does mean it only applies when the patient is competent and coherent. On top of that, there is a 15 day waiting period between making the request (in a written and witnessed legal document) and receiving treatment.
There are specific terms (Sec. 17) to prevent any SNAFUs with life, health, or accident insurance — though this could be worded more strongly, since it talks about procurement, rates, and “shall not have an effect,” rather than an affirmative order that, say, life insurance pays out.
If assistance is requested and taken, death certificates will list the terminal illness as cause. That seems like a necessary hack for life insurance, but also a way to “protect” the family, who’ll have to share the certificate with numerous entities and businesses when dealing with the estate. This ‘little white lie’ will keep the patient’s decision private, but it also means there’d be no destigmatizing effect among the people who process such paperwork. I’m with(?) linda here, and think a primary cause of terminal illness and secondary of [name of medication] would be appropriate — with some sly latinate prescriptive markup to indicate a request was made, lest the drug get a statistical reputation as a ’cause of death.’
As it stands, Sec. 15 states that individual records will be kept, but not be public, and an annual statistical summary will be made public.
Sec. 18 gets a bit euphemistic, specifically not authorizing “lethal injection,” “mercy killing,” or “active euthanasia,” while also declaring everything permitted in the act to not be those, nor “assisted suicide.” Instead, the act permits “obtaining and self-administering life-ending medication.” This could be squirrely, but “self-administering” is certainly the important safeguard.
There’s a lot more, including text of the consent forms. The only thing that bothers me is that, while the forms require two indifferent witnesses, at least one unrelated and none employed at the patient’s health care facility, they’ve thrown in a puzzler that “If the patient is an inpatient at a health care facility, one of the witnesses shall be an individual designated by the facility.” On the one hand, this gives the facility some veto power if they aren’t comfortable, but it also gives them the power to screw around. (It’s like some stupid MENSA logic puzzle: Bob always signs? Bob never signs? If Bob always signs, Alice is the only witness who matters, and if Bob never signs, you don’t get your wishes acknowledged even if you were of sound mind and filled out your form.)
Nonetheless, I think they got the tone right. The doctor is not forced or empowered to make new decisions — he or she is there to diagnose the terminal illness and to follow the patient’s requests. They’re going to keep serious records, albeit out of public view (my thoughts are mixed). You would have to try sufficiently hard to fuck around with this, and if you did, the records would be subpoena’d and you’d be caught.
So while Seajay expressed some of my gut reactions, particularly re: doctors and family, it’s clear this proposal takes those into account. If you’ve got a vote on this one, *read the damn text,* then get out to the polls and do what seems right.
Dan –
I went through a very similar thing in April, when my father died of pulmonary fibrosis at the UW. He had been very forceful in his decisions to not be sustained artificially, though we all wondered if he thought the high-pressure oxygen mask he wore was artificially keeping him alive.
The doctors allowed him to choose a “pain-management” death – being slowly overdosed on morphine while reducing the oxygen he was getting. It was horrific to watch – we had struggled for so long to get him the oxygen he needed, now we were taking it away. We knew he was in some amount of pain, we could hear it in his whimpers.
I and my family are all supporting I-1000, but it is only part of a larger need for better education and patients’ rights. At the time of his death, my dad was working on his 29th book, about his journey towards lung transplants. He never made it there, and it’s one project of his that I don’t think I will be tackling any time soon. It’s just too painful to remember.
Your article made me cry.
Beth
I was on the fence and now I am not. Thank you Dan for sharing your story.
I really do agree with the fact that it should be legal for a terminally ill patient near death to self administer life ending drugs. But what is the definition going to be for ‘near death’? What’s going to happen when one kind of suicide is legal and people want to push for general assisted suicide? These are my reservations. Being ‘religious’ myself, I can say that if you actually want people to understand you, saying ‘fuck your god’ isn’t exactly the best way to go about it.
I agree that people shouldn’t force religion down the throats of others, but my reasons for avoiding assisted suicide and abortion aren’t religious, they are societal. I’m concerned for the way that our culture will transform if these types of things are allowed. Hopefully that gives you a little more respect for the opposite perspective…
These issues aside, the best for you and your family. I recently lost my great grandmother, and I know it’s very hard.
I am sorry for your loss, Dan. I lost my father to cancer. Although he went in a matter of months, it was very difficult to watch him die. Hang in there.
Thanks, Dan.
I’m e-mailing this to my doctor and my hospice.
Somebody commented above about dying a ‘wrongful death’. I wonder what’s ‘right’ about dying in agony when that can so easily be avoided or ameliorated?
We don’t need to die like a dog – in fact, even a dog doesn’t.
I’m sorry that I don’t have anything to say that would be especially meaningful or consoling in your loss… But my boyfriend’s mum died on 22 August and this article was very meaningful to me in mine.
The impact of your article will be far reaching. I had just gotten done reading an article that my church published about the efforts of Hospice and the lack of need for I-1000.
My mom recently passed away, also from Pulmonary Fibrosis, and she came THIS CLOSE to missing the opportunity to go home with Hospice Care. Hospice is awesome and in a perfect world, I-1000 would not be necessary.
Reading about your dear mom and what you all had to go through is really heart breaking. What occurred to me, and I appologize for not having realized this sooner, is that this is not a perfect world. I am very sorry for your loss, hope you find comfoft at some point, and want you to know that I have now decided to vote for I-1000.
I watched my mom die earlier this year. It was cancer, and she fought it for a good five years. In the end, she was on hospice, and I had plenty of time to watch her sleep more and more until she quietly died.
Mom didn’t request anything but pain-killers, but it was still hard to watch her, a formerly active lady and avid walker, unable to sit up or roll over on her own. She was already terminal — if she had requested to end it early, I would have wanted to be able to legally do so.
I don’t think doctors should be deciding this for people. But if the patient is already on terminal care, please make this option available to them and their families.
–Becky
I’m so sorry, Dan.
Dan, thank you for writing this. My father died of Pulmonary Fibrosis a year and a half ago, and it’s a heartbreaking moment to be in a parent’s (or any loved one’s) life at the moment they are so vulnerable. I would have helped my father with a glass of water and pills, too, and it’s hard for me to imagine living through that and not wanting to help end his pain. I was lucky enough to say goodbye, and he told me he waited for me to arrive before he died. I would have helped him with that goal–and I did, by being there to discuss pain management with the doctors.
To deny “assisted suicide” is to deny pain management. While others may be able to do that to a loved one, I certainly could not.
My thoughts are with you and your family.
Dan, I’ve been a longtime reader of your column, and though at 18 years old I hopefully won’t have to face a situation like this for a long time if ever, I really admire your courage in such a terrible situation. It is utterly criminal that your mother was forced to endure that kind of suffering to satisfy some holier-than-thou zealots who don’t even know her name, and we should all be outraged
PS: As a Tucsonan, I’d like to apologize for the state of our hospitals-many of them are grim, soulless, and dung-colored, though I can testify to knowing a few excellent doctors who work in them.
Hey Dan,
You’ve done a great service by telling us the story of your mother’s death–it’s a wonderful tribute to her and your relationship with her. We would like to make one observation about her last hours that does not fit neatly into the debate over I-1000: it doesn’t sound like the doctors and nurses were terrific. In fact, it sounds like they were ineffective at helping you and your family feel prepared for her death, and ineffective at helping your family create the kind of ending that would have made for more comforting memories. Not having been there, of course, we may be lacking in some of the details. But it always surprises us that families of dying patients expect so little from the medical care their loved ones receive at the end of life. We’d like your readers to know that they can ask for better care–maybe with the help of palliative care clinicians who specialize in this sort of thing. In your article, the question of what to do in the last hours of a life has just two answers–stand by helplessly, or give a medicine to hasten death. End of life care that is
excellent offers more than just these two answers. If you’re in this spot, you should demand better, and maybe a palliative care consultant.
This article is simply a masterpiece. I have read it and re-read it and yes I am infuriated too that others would try to rule my choices at the end of my life. I am 50 now and hopefully there is time for outdated laws to change before I reach an age where I might wish to end my life quickly to avoid suffering. I remember your stories about your mom in “The Commitment” and am so sorry to hear about her passing. I wish it could have been a more peaceful passing for her.
Death should be a personal choice. My grandfather died while being pumped full of just enough morphine (pain management) that the drug itself wouldn’t kill him. It took an entire month for him to pass and the whole event was AWFUL. Yes nearly my entire family got to say goodbye; however, I don’t know that I want to remember seeing him in the hospital that way. He was ready to die, and wanted to, but it took a month. If he had a choice, I know it would have ended sooner. And it would have been better for everyone!
I’ve never commented on any article before, but that was so moving, so poignant, such absolute truth that I felt compelled. My grandmother died of the same disease as your mother and I remember watching her, at age 12, make those same decisions with Hospice in our home. A few months ago my father died from bladder cancer which had spread through his body. As I sat with him, waiting, waiting in what I called “ring side seats at the death bed show” (hey, you have to find some way through it, laughter is mine…) I longed so strongly for a just and dignified way for my father to die. Thank you for putting to words what so many of us think. Amanda
I am in my late 40s and fighting stage IV breast cancer, in hopes of getting a few more years of the life I love. At this point I do not know if I’ll have months or years or a decade or more: cancer is different now. Unfortunately, outside the medical community, most people still equate stage IV with “terminal.” This attitude is so pervasive, unconscious, and deep, that a couple of longtime friends I’d thought I could count on forever, smart friends who normally know better about stuff, have dropped me like a zombie and left me for dead. The pain is indescribable as I fight this disease minus much of a support network. Sex & The City, this is not. My life is very bleak, and October’s toxic pink ribbons can’t bind up my ripped-out insides as I walk through the leaves alone.
“Long story short,” uh…
1. Society’s attitude toward catastrophic CHRONIC BUT SURVIVABLE illness such as my breast cancer terrifies me. I AM STILL THE SAME PERSON, but I’ve watched people I thought I knew “put me in the grave alive” and walk away. Former friends refer to me as “terminal” while I go about an active, productive, creative and joyful life. They assume something about me I can’t fathom. I AM STILL HERE.
2. The attitudes of insurance companies, ‘bots at the HUGE cancer clinic I go to, even some doctors and nurses, terrify me. Yes, there are some wonderfully compassionate people in medicine. But they are part of an industry which sees me as an insignificant cluster of numbers to be swept along on the conveyor belt as fast as possible to maximize profits. Profits for shareholders, profits for CEOs, profits for the wealthy few who own this system: THAT is the bottom line. Not my life. Not your life. Not the dignity of life. The moment I become just unprofitable enough AND just invisible enough, THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A CORPORATE CONSCIENCE in place to save my life.
Without going into too much detail, the clinic I go to (it’s HUGE) has already referred to my insurance as “not good enough” several times. I carry the same insurance thousands of workers in this area have. It is NOT “bad” insurance. But apparently it’s not the extra-deluxe insurance of the wealthy which this megalo-clinic’s beancounters prefer. And some of them are not shy about saying so. What scares me is what they are NOT saying, if they’ll be that blatantly cold about my lack of value to my face. They terrify me.
So we need laws, I think. Yes, I would love the ability to choose a softly opiated exit into warm, turquoise seas of infinite unity. Yes, this option should be legal, along with ten thousand other inherent human rights to bind one’s own wounds.
But until I stop waking up in a cold sweat knowing that, as a less-wealthy person, a working class person, my life means exactly NOTHING to this system, I WANT A LAW TO PROTECT ME.
I am quite literally afraid that the clinic, and my own doctor, might be persuaded to neglect my treatment, might be persuaded to give me a little push in the direction of euthanasia, TO SAVE A FEW DOLLARS. My life is simply not worth saving, to them, if preserving it conficts with greater profits for the shareholders of the ruling class.
I am fighting cancer on so many fronts. I am exhausted. And worrying that my doctor and my clinic could smile coldly and end my life with a few little pushes toward euthanasia “for my own good” is yet another waking nightmare. Please do not trust a system which values profits above all.
Dan
Your experience and perspective on your mother’s death has moved me greatly.
It evoked feelings I, too, will never resolve about my own mother’s lonely death.
Dan
Thank you for your story. I think the concept of assisted suicide is foreign to those who have not had to deal with a terminally ill family member. I could go on about my personal experience, but it really will not help to persuade those who do not understand or relate. All I can hope is that people will allow others to do with their life what they want. If someone wishes to end their own life due to extreme pain, please let them do it with a few pills rather than a kitchen knife. Best of luck to everyone who has to deal with death… It catches up to all of us and our family members in one way or another. Gina
Despite not being able to choose (it’s our life and our body, I would like for people to be able to choose), your mother was surrounded by many people who loved her and she loved. I’d like to feel that her spirit was probably at peace and love at that point. My mother was able to be in hospice in the hospital for a few days on morpine also. Thank you for sharing your intimate story, your great writing, and to bring this issue to light. xo Beki
Your article brought tears to my eyes and reminded me of my own mother’s recent death.
For whatever reasons, numerous tests and biopsies didn’t show the cancer tumour growning and spreading in my mom’s stomache lining. When the doctors figured out what was going on, nothing could be done and they gave her 2 months tops. According to my sister, when they gave her this news it was like someone took a pin to a balloon.
She instructed us that there were to be no heroic last minute measures to keep her alive any longer than her body wanted- no CPR, no machines, no feeding tubes, etc. My mom believed in God and was actively involved in her church, yet she also strongly believed in quality of life versus quantity of life.
I live overseas and it was 2 weeks before I could make it home after getting the news.
Ends up she was hanging on, waiting for me to get back. She was heavily medicated, including anti-anxiety drugs and morphine. I was with her when she went: it was not pain free, she was calling out for help while crying that it hurt so bad and she just wanted us to make the pain stop. And of course, those of us with her felt so powerless because there was nothing we could do to help her.
It made me think of a conversation with my sister – she said we treat our pets better than fellow humans. That if a pet was in pain and suffering like our mother was, you would put the pet down. But that you can’t do that with your family because of the sanctity of life – instead you have to make them suffer up until their last breath – literally.
People should be given the choice in the case of a terminal illness. I don’t ever want to suffer like my mom did. I am thankful that she didn’t suffer for very long – from getting the news to her passing was 17 days – but I would have preferred it if she didn’t have to suffer like that at all.
Tears.
Dan, I grew to love your mother through your books. I am so sorry this happened to you and your family. I wish you peace.
I’m crying. Man, that was painful to read. I’m like your mom in way–an anomaly. A pro-choice, pro-gay marriage, etc practicing Catholic. In other words, a very rare bird. It seems to me that there is some reasoning which can make abortion OK to Catholics. According to my Catholicism for Dummies book (and I’m paraphrasing here) if there is a procedure done to save a mother’s life, which inadvertently ends the life of her unborn child, that’s OK, because it wasn’t a *deliberate* act to kill the fetus. It’s like a moral loophole. I imagine that there can be a loophole for physician assisted suicide…for example, letting the dying patient self-administer painkillers that might inadvertently have the effect of causing the patient to die. The emphasis would be killing the PAIN and not the person. But that’s the religious justification. As a strict separation-of-church-and-state believer, I don’t think the government has the right to tell anyone what to do with his or her body, up to and including, suicide. Just putting it out there.
Deepest condolences, Dan.
dan, as a health care professional that works in end of life care, i applaud your well written, honest, loving story. i too believe in choice. who are we to “limit” the experience of the dying? i have been present at hundreds of deaths, they are each spiritual, individual and on the dying person’s own terms. choice is a comfort measure.
once again dan savage has proven that while he may not be the very most,he is definatly in the top three most sensible humans ever. talk about your strait talk express!how about dan and tina fey team up for a white house run in ’12? i can even wait for’16.they could start a new trend…co-presidents! i like it. best wishes to you and your family dan,keep on keepin’ it real for all of us. joe norcio seattle
It can be said in one quick statement… keep your religion out of my government.
Dan,
I am so sorry for your loss… I have been a fan of your’s for a while and after reading this you have become my hero. Thank you. If I lived in WA I would vote for I-1000.
crying my eyes out for you dan. i love you so much.
Dan, that sounds like you had a horrible experience during your mother’s death and for that I am truly sorry. As a health care professional that works in hospice and palliative care, I can tell you that the doctor should NEVER have told you or your family “there is nothing more we can do” for your mother. That is tantamount to abandonment. We do not stop caring for patients even when (especially when!) they are dying. They could not stop the inevitability of her death; yes that is true. But what they should have told you is that they would do everything in their power to control the things that were making her so miserable – pain, shortness of breath, anxiety. These are symptoms for which we have very safe and effective medications that could have been given to your mother to make her comfortable in her final moments. We do not give medications indiscriminately to end people’s lives; most often, the doses needed for relief of suffering do not hasten death. Herein lies the key difference between well-practiced end-of-life care and physician-assisted suicide. They are NOT one and the same, although unfortunately the public discourse often confuses the two. Having good end-of-life care eliminates the need for physician-assisted suicide, in my opinion.
Resources:
http://www.nhpco.org
http://www.getpalliativecare.org
We recently went through this with our mother. I held her hand for 2.5 hours after she passed and washed her before the funeral people came. It was the best and last thing I could do for her.
Your writing captured much of my own feelings. My brother, father and I were asked to make the final decision. My greatest comfort was that our decision was heart-felt and unwaveringly unanimous and yet, somehow I feel haunted. She passed on May 16th and yet it feels like this morning. My heart still sings for her and I cry, sometimes, that there is no answering note, and yet, silence IS part of the music of life too.
Hugs, if you want them.
“the hour chosen by God” is when the body gives out, whether by age sickness or accident. Anything else is the medical establishment imposing its will upon you, for profit, not God.
“Connelly doesn’t like the measure because he believes the purpose of a “democratic society” is to “safeguard and enhance life, especially among the youngest, the weakest, and the suffering””
How can you enhance life if you cause it more suffering by not letting it end as a person wishes?
Please, vote Yes on I-1000.
Dan,
My heart goes out to you and your family. I can not say that I’ve been in the same situation as both my parents went rather quickly. However, I do think there are ways around the laws to facilitate a dignified death as a friend did…no questions asked..just careful planning. Keep the memory of your mum alive within you all…because that is the best tribute. Hugs, St.
This was stunningly and achingly beautiful and powerful, Dan.
This was heartbreaking but beautiful. My condolences.
Tucson isnt really dung-colored by the way….
You don’t get to ‘play the dead parent card’ and use it to get away with an attack on Catholics. Since Islam, Buddhism, Muslims, etc are off limits–especially in flaky Seattle–it’s a chickenshit strategy.
It shows the low state of U.S. education and critical thinking that an idiot you can bring in the abuse of kids by a few priests in a church of one billion followers and a 2000 year history. No matter that abuse in the Catholic church was no higher than amongst educators or other faiths (though the hierarchy should be criticized).
No mention of the Church’s stand in the sanctity of life or the deeply felt and honestly came by beliefs. You may not agree with it, but you’re just an ass who hid behind the skirt of his mother’s death to throw bullshit comments out.
I would add here that I am not a practicing Catholic but I do have respect for the beliefs of all faiths and even those of atheists.
You’re still an ass.
Dan, My father died of this exact same disease in February of 2005. He was diagnosed in August of 2004. It was terrifying and heartbreaking. My mother stockpiled the morphine hospice brought and I think she ended his suffering that last morning. Our family still reels from the pain and trauma of this disease and the decisions we had to make. Thank you for sharing your story.
Dan, I love ya, and I’m sorry for your loss, and I thought this piece was mostly great…but dude, that “Fuck your God” line was a dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb rhetorical choice. Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb. You ALMOST had a great piece of writing that could have been used to convince members of the religious right why they should at least sympathize with your point of view. But with that line, you blew it. You lost them. No mission accomplished. No, they wouldn’t be regular readers of Savage Love, but they could have found it in other places, such as in a circulated e-mail. Come on, man, what were you thinking?
When I was 15 I had to watch my maternal grandmother die right in front of me after taking care of her all summer. I am also a Catholic but PRO-choice/gay marriage/physician-assisted suicide. My thoughts, prayers, and heart go out to you and your family, because I know what it’s like to sit and watch someone you love and say “is their suffering worth it?” Blessings on you.
I find the “slippery slope” argument against physician-assisted suicide quite uncompelling, especially as compared to the stories of families who lived to witness excruciatingly painful deaths of loved ones who were not offered the choice to manage their death.
Such arguments presume that we are not capable of drawing a line in matter- that once Pandora’s Box is opened, in a couple decades we’ll be euthanizing anyone without the preferred genetic composition. There is, after all, a clear distinction between a voluntary choice of a terminally ill patient and an involuntary action foisted upon them by others.
The slippery slope argument can be applied inappropriately to all manners of arguments, and this is just one of them. In Oregon, physician-assisted suicide is already the law. Would repealing that law introduce a slippery slope where the society forces physicians to keep all patients perpetually on life support, despite the wishes of the patient? Of course not- and neither will accepting I-1000 lead to similarly dystopian results.
BTW, are some opponents to I-1000 really comparing supporters to Nazis? Is that really where you want to take this?
Dan, I’m sorry to hear about your family’s loss, and like you I hope we can offer those facing similar prospects as your mother a respectable choice on how to depart us.
As someone who watched her mother claw her way toward death, fighting every inch of the way, I can only admire the incredible bravery your mother showed at the end of her life. I also admire your bravery for writing about it so openly. Thank you for sharing this story.
It’s been ten years since my mother died and I still think about her every day. I hope that you find peace as you make your own journey through grief.
I remember when Oregon was debating this. There were all sorts of terrible predictions, but we voted it in anyway (twice!), and the system has worked well. None of the dire warnings have come to pass, and one side effect has been significant improvement in palliative care for the dying.
Posted by SirVic; “And for Catholics…No organization in human history has as much innocent blood on their hands as the pope and his gang.”
Don’t let your comic book derived historical knowledge get in the way of truth Einstein.
No matter that millions have derived comfort from the Church. No matter that the Church’s teachings on poverty demand compassion and kindness.
No matter that nationalism or political ideology have far more victims. No matter that millions of Catholics throughout history continued to administer to the poor no matter what the income. No matter that the Inquisition was far less onerous than set of falsehoods the English propaganda of the time pushed.
And of course a flaky Seattle hipster-doofus like you would never face a historical truth such as the fact that Islam has had a far more warlike and bloody history.
Check out a history book not a few nitwit website articles before you spout idiocy next time Lord Acton.
Hi Dan
I have just com back from a trip to see my dad in hospital. I arrived , met my brother on the sidewalk outside the hospital and he told me the news my dad had died that morning. My brother did not want to call me while I was driving. I went in to see my dad and it was so sad to see him in the place he hated above all places, hospital. He died of pneumonia because he had had TB when he was 21 and only had 1/3 a lung on the right side and 2/3 on the left. He knew it was his Achilles heel. He had turned to my sister a week before, blind, thin and hardly able to talk and said, “I am done”. She knew what he was saying.
He held out long enough for my mom to arrive so he could lift both his hands up to touch my moms face. The love of his life for 60 years.
Your pain and frustration are understandable, and your points are well made. However, to blast God with an F-word completely erases any credibility that you have in mine, and other good folk’s eyes.
I realize Chrstian churches and their leaders have been hypocritical and far from the pious leaders they’d like to be seen as. But I’ll have you know, they are truly but a small minority in Christianity. Most Christian people do their best to live a good life and practice what they preach.
You have a good argument, even if I don’t agree with it. Too bad you can’t keep your caustic opinions and harsh language to yourself and present the facts of this narrative in a respectful way.
Respect is a two-way street my friend, and you just lost mine.
Hey Dan. My father died in a way not so different from your mother. Cancer metastized to his lungs, on oxygen, couldn’t breathe. He died at home, and I remember all too well the slow intrusion of interventions, the steady weakening of a man who’s strength had been there all my life.
He died with my mom and sister beside him. I’m the one who gave him the last morphine injection. I wouldn’t let them do it – some misplaced sense of eldest-son duty I think. I didn’t want them to feel responsible, so I took it on myself – I’m proud that I did. Morphine suppresses respiration. He would have lived longer if I hadn’t done it, but all lives end. He felt no pain at the end, it’s the best any of us can hope for.
Lives are not pennies to be saved, not stamps to be collected in return for some mail-in reward. Those who “Choose life” too often forget that what matters is not merely being alive but how you live.
“Fuck your God.” On the face of it, it sounds offensive. But when you are experiencing the gut-wrenching agony of watching a loved one suffer, such expression merely portrays a genunine response. Thanks for being so open and real Dan and for loving your mom so much. I am sorry.
Dan,
I am very sorry to read of your mothers passing. It is a horrible thing to have to go through.
Your words hit home with me all to well. 5 years ago my mother finally lost her battle with lung cancer. I will spare you the long details of her “sticking it up that Dr’s ass” that she lived 3 years longer than she was supposed to. Her final moments were very similar to your mom’s. She fought and battled the whole time. I was begging the attending Dr the night she died to just give her so much morphine that she would just go to sleep and never wake up. I do not know if my mother would have chosen the “assited suicide” route or not,but I would have liked her to have the choice. Fuck those Catholic bastards. Being from Boston and a one time altar boy, they can go shit in there fists. They are one of the most vile organizations on earth.
Again, sorry for your loss. It seems you were very close to your mom. I just want to say,if she is anything like my mom, she left you with all you need to get by in life.
My dad died of kidney failure after an emergency surgery to repair a burst aneurysm failed. He’d been a do-not surgical risk, with emphysema and heart trouble, so the surgery wasn’t even considered until the thing burst.
He never came out of the anesthesia, but he was kept on painkillers–we never had the chance to say goodbye.
I had the option of putting my cat to sleep, painlessly, when her kidneys shut down. The law did not give us the same option with my father.
BE AWARE: even if you have a living will, as Dad did, signing permission for surgery can void that document. One of my 3 siblings had a terrible struggle with the question of taking him off the machine, until the docs told us his inner organs were shutting down.
Dan, I’ve been there, it’s horrible. I’m glad you had family at your side.
Dan – I can’t stop tearing up and reliving my Dad’s passing last December in very similar situation, is not an easy road to travel and they say time heals, it gets better after time passes but for the healing I’m still waiting… I personally want to thank you for sharing such an intimate experience it truly helps those of use going through similar situations. It’s very powerful and touching in every sense.
Things will get better… my condolences.
Beautifully written, Dan.
We can’t even GET a proposition like that here in Tennessee. I wish you the best of luck in getting it approved.
Don May
Memphis, Tn.
My condolences to you from Argentina, Dan.
Beautiful and powerful writing. We, readers, feel your pain and sadness.
Abrazos.
When my father was slowly slipping in much the same way, they came in to weigh him. I had to watch and even help him use his last strength to get him self onto that scale. I was to young and dumb to yell like your step-father did to leave a family at peace. It still haunts me. Be so glad for the morphine. The morphine doesn’t just ease the pain it allows them to go quicker and quieter. It brings peace quicker to all involved. I’m so glad she didn’t suffer for long.
Fuck their god, and fuck them too.
I believe there is nothing in the bible forbidding suicide. I believe suicide was made a sin in order to assist religious oppression: if you did not believe Roman Catholic dogma, you could be horribly murdered; and for many freethinkers, would have been preferable to first, torture, second, burning to death at the stake. So by threatening them a continuation of agony for all eternity, the church denied them that escape.
I don’t know if it helps in any way at all, but when I was younger I had jaw surgery. It hurt. I was put on a drip that let me add a little bit of morphine to my IV every fifteen minutes if I needed it.
I’d try to tough it out, but then I’d punch the little button and within a few seconds, at most: no pain, just a feeling like I was floating.
Morphine is the good stuff.
Jeffrey and Elsie: Everything is a slippery slope to somewhere. If the initiative is passed, yes, it’s possible that some bad law will be passed after that. What you seem to preserve is some automatic system that spares you the obligation of citizenship, which is to pay attention to what lawmakers and hospitals are doing.
But we don’t have that now as it is. No automatic system. We the people have to shoulder our responsibilities as watchdogs. That doesn’t change is the initiative passes.
You talk about Holland. But what the hell do you know? Have you been to Holland? Have you talked to Dutch people? Just where do you get your information? What evidence is there that patients are being killed against their will?
Dan,
Many thanks for sharing your story so eloquently. While I’m sympathetic to the story having lived through the same situation with my beloved mother, I must comment that the idealogy behing your argument remains sound and just and DO-able! Our society is truly intact enough to accomodate this relatively new choice without abusing it. I urge all readers to trust that they and their families will find comfort and empowerment with a law that reflects our abilities to live and end our lives with as many choices as God has given us.
What a beautiful and well-stated piece. It comforts me at several levels — the memory of dealing with my own mother’s death; the way I responded to a relative just last night who is so sure her God has the answers that she wants to impose them on the rest of the world. Thank you.
Thank you for the article. It made me cry. We should all have a choice.
well. i just started crying in class.
Dear Dan,
Thank you for putting yourself out there to share this with all of us. Reliving it can’t have been easy, but hopefully it will help others understand better.
You and your family have the support of all of us out here in Reader-land during this tough time.
Heather
Jeffrey,
I sympathize with your fears. As a feminist, it bothers me immensely that in places where assisted suicide is legal, women take advantage of it more often than men do; in our society, women are still taught that their worth lies in caring for others, and they seem more likely to end their lives rather than risk being a “burden” on those whom they are supposed to be taking care of. But to me, that’s no reason to oppose I-1000; quite the contrary. As a feminist, I oppose the social norms that value women’s lives only when they are of a particular kind of “use,” AND the idea that government has a right to dictate how I die. I’m interested in a society that encourages women to value their own lives as much as it encourages men to do so. I have no interest at all in one that devalues women’s lives and then forces them to live out the final moments of those lives feeling guilty about the toll it takes on their loved ones.
The answer to discrimination, against women or against the disabled, is to fight against the twisted ideas about the value of some lives over others that lie behind it, not to hand over to the state the final decision on whether any individual’s life is worth their living.
Dan, I am so sorry.
Thank you for writing this.
I’m so sorry. I was caregiver for both of my parents. I was with them when they died, 7 years apart, so I know how you feel. I was able to give my father morphine, but my mother struggled for hours to breathe. it was awful and it was my sisters directive – i couldn’t do a thing but hold onto her.
I realize this is an older article and I-1000 has already been approved, but I have a hard time accepting the argument from the Golins about this becoming something that could hard their autistic daughter. I voted for the initiative because I believe they have the best safeguards in place for this. An adult must be deemed “competent” by 2 different doctors and must self-administer the drug. That makes it a pure “choice” by the individual.