I've always been a person who thinks about difficult problems and situations that affect most of us in American society.
As a kid, I watched my grandmother die in her bedroom surrounded by family. I saw her taken aways and then brought back to lie in state in her living room. Her death in 1951 came at a time when that practice was in it waning days; and it was the first, and the last, time I was witness to the practice.
Maybe it was observing this ritual at such a young age that caused me to always think of death as just a part of life. Over the years, I became aware that we Americans treat our pets better than we treat our loved ones when it comes to death and dying. Not wanting our pets to be in needless pain, we routinely euthanize them when they are no longer able to enjoy a quality life. We treat our family members much differently. We encourage them to hang in there and resist the pain. We tell them they are going to recover when we know they aren't. We tell ourselves it is up to God to decide the date and time of our deaths. Why?
That simple question is one no one has ever been able to satisfactorily answer for me. In 1969, I watched as my mother was dying of cancer. In a last ditch to save her, the doctors had burned her body with hideously high doses of radiation. At 48 years of age, she looked more like she was 88. She was in horrible pain, and she was ready to die. The hope she had sustained for the past five years was gone, gone for her and gone for those of us who loved her. I hoped and prayed for her death regretting only that my wife was five months pregnant with my mother's first grandchild, a child I knew she would never see or hold in her arms. The mental anguish that brought me was almost unbearable, for she had so looked forward to her first grandchild in the four years I had been married. But my mental anguish paled in comparison to her physical anguish. I knew I was just being selfish.
On the day that men first set foot upon the moon, my mother died. Though I loved her as I loved no one else, I shed not a single tear. The tears had all long since been shed. Her death was cause for thankfulness for a life well lived and for the faith that she was at home in the arms of the Lord and no longer suffering from unendurable pain. Somehow it seemed fitting to me that the death of a woman who had played such a significant role in my short life should be marked with unique triumph for mankind, a walk on the moon.
Fourteen years later, my Dad lay in a hospital bed, racked by pain from cancer. His doctor asked me what I wanted done. I told the doctor I wanted him kept free from pain at any cost. The doctor asked if I knew what I was asking. I told him I knew very well.
He said he respected and agreed with my wishes. He pointed to the room next to my father's and said it held an 87 year old woman terminally ill with cancer, but her family had instructed him to keep her alive at all costs, a demand he saw as offensively selfish though he was ethically bound to carry it out even at the expense of the old woman's pain.
My father was dying of lung cancer. Every time he coughed or moved, a rib would crack or break. The pain was horrific; but as I had instructed, morphine was liberally administered to lessen the pain even though it steadily depressed his respirations. Approximately 30 hours after my instructions to the doctor, my father was dead at age 63. Even though I was a grown man with children of my own, his death was difficult for me. I guess the death of a good father always is for his sons because a father's role in the life of his sons is more complex than the roll of their mother. My mother had demonstrated to me over and over than love never died and that forgiveness for any transgression was always hers to give. My father, on the other hand, had concentrated much more on teaching me and my bothers that we lived in a cold and uncaring world that didn't give a damn about us, and it was up to us to become men who could provide for ourselves and our loved ones in spite of anything the world threw at us. It was a hard lesson and I often felt my father didn't love us at all.
By the time he died. I had come to realize he had always loved us just as our mother had; but he had loved us enough to teach us the hard lessons of life vital to our well being. Though I had come to realize this, there had never seemed to be an opportunity to express my understanding of it all to my Dad. There had never seemed to be a time to tell my Dad straight out that I loved him and I knew he loved me. I guess it was the same for him. A child of the Great Depression, he had lived a life I could not imagine. It was only his toughness that let him endure it. There had been no time for and no occasion for very many expressions of tenderness in his life. The tears I shed at his death were for all the things left unsaid between us.
As a young optimist, I always felt by the time I was old and facing death, people would have come to their senses and started treating their loved ones at least as good as they treated their pets. I felt sure that the passing of the baby boomer generation into old age would force the politicians and even the church to recognize that death should be something each of us managed for ourselves without relying on God's often seeming indifference.
Alas, all too often, it has not come to pass. The country and its politics are dominated by fundamental Christians who do their best to see to it that everyone's lives are subject to their interpretation of the mind of God. These religious zealots are sure God abhors suicide. Some of them even call it the unpardonable sin which has no Biblical foundation. These people are always quick to perceive the wrath of God. They almost always place the grace of God under the heel of His wrath.
A few liberal states have enacted self directed suicide statutes, but they are few in number. It is about the only thing I admire about liberal politics. Yet, though it is evolving at a snail's pace, attitudes are continuing to change.
The following excerpts are from a Yahoo News Story on March 25, 2013:
Tomas Young is "ready to go" as he puts it. After nine years of suffering and with his body quickly deteriorating he has decided to end his struggle.
Young, 33, was paralyzed from the chest down by a sniper's bullet in a battle in Sadr City, Iraq on April 4, 2004, less than a week after he got to the country. He had joined the Army just two days after September 11, 2001 and assumed he would be sent to Afghanistan. Now nine years after that battle he is choosing to end his suffering. He is in hospice care and getting ready to die.
"I just decided that I was tired of seeing my body deteriorate and I want to go before it's too late," Young said in phone interview with ABC News from his home in Kansas City, Mo. "I've been doing this for the past nine years now…and I finally felt helpless every day and a burden to the people who take care of me and that's why I want to go."
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| Tired of the Pain and Ready to Go |
Young and his wife Claudia Cuellar are receiving guests for a few more weeks. During that time, Young will say goodbye to friends and family and then will stop receiving medications, nourishment and water. They don't know how long it could be after that time he will die, but they believe it will be one to three weeks, but it could be as long as six weeks.
They don't consider it suicide, just an end to his suffering.
"I'm not the boy who would always think suicide if maybe something goes wrong," Young said. "I put lots of time into this. I considered the facts that people I know who love me and would prefer that I stick around, and my only hope is that they realize that they're being selfish in wanting me to just stick around and endure the pain."
Young and Cuellar have decided to go public with their story. First, in an article in the
Kansas City Starbecause they want to change the perception on death and dying in this country as well as continue to shine a light on the anti-Iraq war activism Young has been focused on since becoming paralyzed. He was the subject of a 2007 documentary
"Body of War" produced by Phil Donahue. It showed Young dealing with the excruciating physical effects of his injury including post-traumatic stress, as well as his work against the Iraq war.
Cuellar says since the first story was written about his choice to die last week they have received mixed reactions of people supporting Young's decision as well as people urging him to "hang on" or "fight a little more." She says it's because people can't fathom his daily pain.
"We've had to increase the pain medication over time quite consistently and incrementally so the increase in pain meds will decrease his faculties somewhat so he is becoming forgetful a little bit. He was always very clear before," Cuellar said.
She also must clean "pressure sores" on his buttocks where Cuellar says she can see the "living bone."
"I hope people understand that we are not just deciding to stop feeding because things are kind of difficult," Cuellar said. "It is an insurmountable challenge every day and I don't know how we get through. We get through with each other."
So, how exactly does this happen in the age of modern medicine and to a man who served his country bravely?
Young says it's been a "long process" since he began experiencing "severe abdominal pain in July of 2009" and he hasn't just been struggling with his deteriorating body, but with the health care system, calling the Veterans Affairs (VA) Hospital a "factory." He left in October against medical advice.
They said when they first approached Young's doctors with his wish to go into hospice they said due to his young age he wasn't the "typical hospice patient."
"This is what happens when a country sends their sons and daughters to war," Cuellar said. "Broken bodies come back and broken bodies deteriorate over time just like a diseased body and just like an aging body and this is the reality. I'm sorry if it doesn't fit your profile of somebody who is 90 years old and about to die going to hospice."
In order to be accepted in a hospice, Young must be "terminally" ill, which he technically is not. They were able to be accepted when he was ruled to have an "inability to thrive." He now has in-home hospice care from Crossroads Hospice.
"All we want to do is go home," Cuellar said, referring to the time before the ruling was made. "We don't want to be in a hospital, we don't want to be in an ER, we don't want to go into a nursing home…we felt like we were like Frankenstein. They just wanted to keep cutting open, stitching up, going in, another pill and this is a dehumanizing process."
Young says he wants the country to learn from his struggle that "war is the last resort" and in future conflicts the American government should try diplomacy and "if they are still not cooperating they should send in a small group of elite trained forces not 125,000 19-year-old kids whose first cultural experience is eating at the Olive Garden or Taco Bell. "
"I want our government to try every possible outlet with the country before invading it, before going to war," Young said.
Young added that if the United States does go to war then "all boxes must be checked."
"Make sure that the soldiers, marines, and sailors have the best body armor, the best armor around their vehicles," Young said before Cuellar added, "And having a healthcare system that will take of you when they get back. I mean, they just can't be abandoned when they sacrifice for their country."
Young's mother Cathy Smith, whom he says has worked as a "pit bull" on his behalf, is also almost always by his side.
He said "she's come around to the conclusion that it would be far more selfish for her to want me to stay alive and be in pain the rest of my life than just let me go."
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I have the greatest admiration for Tomas and Claudia Young. There is no doubt in my mind they are making, not only the right decision for themselves, but also a decision that all of us should be willing to make when the time comes. It is simply the right thing to do.
The fact is, a huge slice of the money each of us will spend in our lives on medical care comes in the last few months and even weeks of our lives when all real hope of quality life is gone. It is futile and selfish spending we cannot afford. In the end, it accomplishes absolutely nothing.
There is no doubt this problem is one of the knotty issues of our lives, but it is one we should face head on with courage and a sense of grace. My own cancer is now metastasized into my spine, spleen, kidneys and bladder. I have outlived my Mom and Dad only because of the significant strides medicine has taken in the last 30 years. Even though my cancer has metastasized, the treatments I take continue to afford me an active lifestyle which, though not like it was before my illness, is satisfying and enjoyable. Unlike my Mom, I lived to see all four of my grandkids. Watching them grow into their own persons is a joy only a grandparent can imagine.
Christmas of 2011 all my children were home for the holidays. I took a few moments to talk with them privately to tell them my wishes concerning my death. As I did for my father, I wish them to do for me. When the quality of my life is over and there is nothing left to bear but pain, I no longer wish to live, and I demand their support in that. They are good kids. Their mother and I raised them well. They understood and they agreed with my decision.
My type of cancer brings a horribly painful death. I don't relish facing it. But knowing that my wife and my family understand and agree with my feelings about it brings me comfort. I am also comforted by the rise of hospice care for the dying in this country. It gives caring families a realistic alternative to futile medical care. Hospice recognizes while the time always comes when medical care is futile and selfish, palliative care is always the compassionate and logical choice for the dying. Hospice does not see their actions as playing God. They realize fully that here on earth, God's work must truly be our own. The hospice movement helps all within its care to experience the compassionate nature of God.
Thanks Tomas and Claudia Young for your courage, your compassion for each other and your willingness to serve as an example to all of us. May God bless and keep you.
This despicable and cowardly act was the work of Army Captain, Nidal Malik Hasan, who supposedly acted as a devotee of Anwar al-Awlaki, an American imam from Virginia who became radicalized by the Muslim terrorists. Because of his efforts to recruit other American citizens for the Muslim terrorists, al-Awlaki was killed by an American drone strike, one of the few things the Obama Administration has done right in this whole sordid affair.
Apparently, even the Obama Administration itself tried to have it both ways. They were sure enough that it was an act of terror rooted in the recruitment activities of al-Awlaki that they put him on the "kill list" and successfully took him out. But, at the same time they executed al-Awlaki's death warrant, they still insisted to the public that Capt. Hasan was just another man who had gone off the deep end and carried out an act of work place violence. Go figure!
