"Everybody's Talking About..."

I was reading a fantastic post about the Terri Schiavo situation on Charlie's blog. I love the *check the box on the tax form* idea he has. It would force everyone to review their thoughts with themselves and their loved ones. And it would also allow them a chance to review their thoughts with themselves and their loved ones annually, and allow them to change their answer depending on where they were in their life.

Maybe my thoughts on Terri's case are shaded by my own prior experiences. My mother-in-law was found to have ovarian cancer in July 1993. The doctors then told her she might only have 6 months to live. It was devastating news. She got second and third opinions. One doctor was willing to sign her up in an experimental drug study and she gladly did so. The chemo was very hard on her. But 6 months later, she was able to attend her son's wedding. To me. It was absolutely fantastic to have her there!

The cancer kept coming back. They kept going back to the doctor for more treatments, more tests, more chemotherapy. It was a giant roller coaster ride for her and the rest of the family. The cancer would fade, then come back. Fade then come back. This went on until Christmas Eve 1997. My son's first Christmas. Not only was she able to make it to our wedding, but she also got to meet her first grandchild, my son. The whole extended family was there. My mother-in-law wasn't feeling well. She ended up in the emergency room that night where it was discovered the tumor had grown and was wrapping around her intestines above the colostomy she already had. The options were running out. At that time, she chose to end all the treatments. She had had enough. It had been 4½ years and she didn't want to do all the treatments anymore.

Her husband was so upset. He didn't want her to give up. Her daughter was upset and didn't want her to give up as well. My husband and I were very sad, but in private, we told her we would support her decision, because we know it's not a decision she made lightly. We wanted to respect her wishes because it's what SHE wanted. Who were we to argue with that?

Hospice care workers and visiting nurses were assigned to her. Over the following few months, she lived on IV fluids. She ate nothing. She was able to get around for short while when she wasn't hooked up to her IV, but the ever growing tumor caused her increasing pain. She was prescribed many different pain medications to help with that. But it reached a point where the medications didn't help much at all, and she couldn't get around as much anymore. At that point, she discussed with her doctors, her pastor, the hospice workers, and her husband, that she wished to discontinue the IVs. They were the only thing keeping her alive, and technically, they could keep her alive indefinitely. She hated being in the situation she was in, and was ready to go and meet her maker.

A hospital bed was brought into the home. The IVs were discontinued. For two agonizing weeks we watched her slowly start to change. At first, her skin and mucous membranes dried out. Her kidneys stopped producing urine. Then, she started having hallucinations. (Was it from dehydration or LOTS of pain medications or the cancer spreading or a combo of all of the above? I'm not sure.) She wasn't recognizing people anymore. It was heartbreaking.

I stopped by one day about a week after the IVs were stopped, and I realized she wasn't *there* anymore. Her eyes were so distant. So vacant. It would be another 5 days before she would finally pass away. Good Friday, 1998.

My husband and I would later discuss how much he hated the way his mom had died. He felt it was so disrespectful. So undignified. So inhumane. How could we allow this to happen to her as well as other people? When a beloved pet is terminal, we are able to allow them to comfortably "fall asleep" with an overdose of anesthetic to save them from further pain. Why do we treat humans with much less respect than that? It's a question we still wrestle with. We've discussed our own wishes with each other. I know his, and he knows mine. It's what spouses do.

So I will end it all here. I won't bore you and go into details about Terri's case or my feelings regarding her, her husband, and her parents. There's plenty of information to be read out there already. If anything comes out of this, at least people will discuss and hopefully sign a Living Will and a Healthcare Power of Attorney. I encourage everyone to do that. You can find free forms online. (Scroll towards the end of the page and there are forms for each state.) The only way to keep your wishes met is to put it in writing. Unfortunately, Terri never did that.