Thursday 15 October 2009

On pulling plugs and other difficult decisions

It was a year ago yesterday that my eighty-seven year old father, having just voted in the 2008 federal election, suffered a stroke from which he died four days later. It is a testimony to my father's lifelong love affair with politics generally, and with the Conservative Party in particular, that one of the last things he ever said before lapsing into a coma was, "Did our local member win?" She did.

On the day before he died, Dad's doctor gave us the grave news that my father would not recover. Or if he did, he would live in an unendurable state (at least from the doctor's point of view). He suggested that the medical people cease to give him the medications necessary to keep him breathing--in other words, to metaphorically pull the plug.

This led to quite a discussion among my siblings at the hospital, my son, and even a nephew and niece who were present. Two other siblings were phoned as well. Apparently my father had told some of his children that if he were very ill and certainly dying, he did not want any extraordinary measures taken to keep him going. This is not uncommon, even among strongly committed pro-life and anti-euthanasia folks.

Some, out of nothing but love and compassion, wanted to let him die. Others felt that the doctor had not outlined anything extraordinary to keeping him alive, and had not made a convincing case for discontinuing medical intervention. My son's succinct "I'd treat him" carried the day. Nevertheless, Dad died the next morning.

Less than three months later, I was at another bedside, that of a woman in her mid-twenties, gasping for life as her lungs, a gift from another person who had died about ten years earlier, lost their ability to function. This dear young friend had cystic fibrosis. Another transplant was impossible. Keeping her hooked up to numerous machines was the only way for her lungs to function at all. She was in an induced coma or she would have torn out all of the tubes coming out of various places in her wasted body, leading to certain death. The decision was made, literally this time, to pull the plug. No one disputed the decision.

As the time neared for the young woman to die, a large group of her friends and those of her mother and step-father gathered in the waiting room of the ICU. The room was as quiet, if I may use the expression, as the grave. Some began to cry. One clutched a rosary. Another asked me if I would pray just before 6:00 p.m., the appointed time for letting the young woman go. Feeling incredible emotion, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility, I recited the 23rd Psalm (The Lord is my shepherd, I shall want for nothing...I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever) and prayed for her and the family. I'll never forget it.

Within three months, I twice faced the decision of whether to euthanize a loved one. Nothing in life prepares you for this. And that's the trouble. The Canadian government, for the seventh time in eighteen years, is confronted with a private member's bill seeking to legalize some form of euthanasia. The Member of Parliament in question has cancer herself. Apparently the vast majority of Canadians believe that she has the right idea. But our political masters have always backed away from allowing these bills to see the light of day. Thus, necessary research of the experience of other countries with such legislation, an exploration of the ethical and legal facets of the issue, and a good debate have not happened.

Our nation needs a thorough examination of this topic. Really, most Canadians know little or nothing about the matter. People throw around terms like "death with dignity" without understanding what ramifications could come from choosing one form of euthanasia over another, or banning it entirely.

Euthanasia can't just grow surreptitiously until its acceptance become inevitable without any real debate. Just as abortion gets little genuine discussion in our society, neither does euthanasia. The feds run for cover when either topic is raised. And we're left with Robert Latimer and Sue Rodriguez as our exemplars.

Where will a useful forum for discussion of these critical life matters come from? With the greatest respect to my late father's political passion, not Ottawa apparently.

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