After the two previous posts, we need to address our actions on behalf of others nearing the end of their lives. Too often, people go too late because of us.
The Obvious
My saintly octogenarian mother-in-law is fond of saying, “It’s no fun getting old.” After my mom passed, one of her fellow assisted-living residents strolled by, told me she was sorry, and casually added, “Wish it was me.” Without exception, those who have witnessed a prolonged final illness emphatically tell their children, “Do not let me suffer like that. Put me out of my misery.” We say those who pass from advanced age or infirmity are in a better place.
However, we routinely disregard these statements and beliefs when we are responsible for a loved one’s final care. We provide care that is not caring, futilely extending the lives of those who would refuse treatment if they could. We will not accept the certainty of death until we have done everything, no matter how nonsensical, to avoid it.
Of course, there is a natural reluctance to do or not do anything that might hasten death, and doctors do not want a patient to die under their watch if there is something they can do to shift it elsewhere.
Do As I Say, Not…
Shamefully, I was a co-conspirator in senselessly prolonging the misery of my beloved father-in-law. He fell victim to dementia and completely lost his mental and physical faculties. Rather than letting nature mercifully take its course and allowing him to collect his eternal reward with dignity, we arranged futile medical interventions to fight a losing battle against an infection he could not physically overcome.
While motivated by apparently good intentions, we extended his life without improving it. With deep heartache, we watched him languish in a comatose state for months. Finally, and thankfully, a doctor told us to stop the insanity. We did, and he went soon after.
You might think I would have learned my lesson, but I attempted to commit similar atrocities against my dear mother. When she was admitted to the hospital, the doctor called to ask whether she had a do-not-resuscitate (DNR) order. Lying in a way that would make Lucifer beam with pride, I said, “No.” My mom was 84, unhappy with her physical condition, in poor spirits, and ready to go.
A few hours later, her heart stopped. The doctor called for instructions, and I told him to shock her with the paddles. It worked only temporarily, and I had to issue the order again. Fortunately for her, I was on a plane when her heart stopped for the final time, so I was unable to suggest any further foolishness.1
My seemingly noble, life-extending decisions were actually made to spare myself guilt and to give myself more time with them. The price was their suffering.
A Plan?
I am not suggesting you put a pillow over your elderly dad’s face or that you not take your 90-year-old mom to the doctor if she breaks her arm. Imprudent end-of-life medical treatments are selfish. When faced with these decisions, focus on your loved one’s desires and best interests, not your own.
The older generation also has a responsibility to confront end-of-life issues. For the same reason that half of us do not have a will, fear of our mortality keeps us from discussing with our loved ones the difficult care decisions necessary to avoid the lingering death we say we want to avoid.
Being Mortal is a must-read book that explores the difficulties and dilemmas associated with aging and death.
Of course, our actions in matters of life and death are always limited by our ability to interfere with the divine plan.
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An ailing grandmother asked her sullen granddaughter, “Do you love me enough to hold on or to let go?”
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1 In my defense, she was at church the morning of her last day.
