Have you ever questioned the ethics surrounding assisted suicide? Unless you have had to witness a terminally ill patient or a family member suffering you probably haven’t. I’m not sure if feeling honored is the correct term to state my feelings on this topic, but I do feel appreciative to have such a deep rooted opinion from personal experience. A personal experience that I feel very honored in being a part of. While I never wish anyone to experience this situation, I feel that people need to have more education and empathy when making an opinion based off someone else’s experience. In 2015 I had the opportunity and experience to care for my Grandfather in his final moments of his life. I felt that I was emotionally prepared for anything due to my experience in healthcare and caring for the elderly on hospice. I had the experience and knowledge but I’m not entirely sure that I had the strength at this time in my life. My Grandpa was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer and it was growing at a pace that even the most advanced medicines couldn’t keep up with. The cancer continuously progressed with a grim prognosis. His body was frail, fragile and deteriorating before our eyes. The person I remember growing up with who was strong, healthy, and unbreakable was now giving up before my eyes. Despite the constant flow of medications he winced with movement and showed signs of distress. The morphine doses were increased and we were now at the point of sedation. I knew that this wasn’t the life or outcome that my Grandpa would have ever wanted. I know that he would have done things differently, he just didn’t have the chance to voice this. Why weren’t there better options? Why did he have to suffer at this extreme? Medically sedated wasn't a good enough solution for me. We are legally allowed and expected by society to put our animals out of their misery when they are in their final days. How do we find it acceptable to let humans suffer? If there was an option to peacefully and lawfully allow terminally ill patients to take enough medication to pass away, I know my Grandpa would have chose this option. According to research and surveys, a reported 27% of people claimed that they had not given any thought to their end of life decisions.{1} I suggest that you do give this idea some thought, no matter which side of the fence you choose to stand one. This choice could end the pain and suffering of patients around the world. We shouldn’t get to decide how people find inner peace. It is our job to find love and compassion in their in their final decisions. I stand strong with my opinion and I hope that your experiences guide you in making logical opinions and stances on this subject.
A Personal Look at Death with Dignity.
Layne was my patient six days a week for the last two years, I was his Med Tech and primary caregiver. I could tell you when his blood sugar was low without using a glucometer, I could tell the nurse his normal range of vitals without even checking them. I knew when he was having good days and could predict when he was on track for terrible days. His doctor would contact me personally in regards to his status and would request my input on any medication changes. He was difficult, time consuming and stubborn as hell, but he was my patient, I cared and looked after him as if he was my own family member. In fact he was my family member as far as anyone was concerned, because he never had any children. He was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes at the young age of two, his body has fought and worked against him his entire life. He is now 56 years old and still fighting a war he has no chance of winning. Layne is what doctors term a Fragile Diabetic, his diabetes will remain unstable regardless of daily medical intervention. He is currently staying in a hospital making some of the hardest decisions of his life. I walked through the big sliding doors at the front of the building, I politely asked the blonde receptionist where I needed to go, she then pointed me in the correct direction and told me to have a nice day. Outside it was sunny with blue skies and perfect September temperature, I really didn't have much to complain about. While I was having a nice day I couldn't help but think of the people in this building that were having some of the worst days of their lives.The elevator took me to the fourth floor and I calmly stepped off and continued down the cold tiled hallways. Everything looked clean and sanitary with a couple of floral chairs lining the hallway. I don't even think Ikea could make this place feel warm and cozy, but they were trying.I looked around and found Room 408 I proceeded to lightly knock on the door, I knew he was expecting me, but I’m not entirely sure that I was ready for the conversation we were about to have. When I walked into the small hospital room I found Layne partially sitting up in his hospital bed. He gave me the biggest smile I had ever seen from him, on the inside I knew he was smiling through his pain. I knew if I asked he would be to stubborn to tell me his pain levels so I just skipped over that question. I did ask him all the other questions that I would normally ask as if he was still my patient. How are your vitals? Have your medications changed? Do you need anything? He responded with the same “I’m fine” answers, I knew that surely wasn't the case. Two nurses came in and gave him pain medication through a syringe. He had always been on pain medications but not as frequently as they were giving to him now. This was a clear indication that things were not looking up for him. As soon as I started asking more questions two doctors walked in, one of which I used to work for and still remain close friends with. They have both approved me to be in the room while talking with Layne. The first doctor made some medications changes and explained big medical terms and went over his MRI results. The second doctor is his end of life doctor and he will be providing all comfort measures. Layne is now suffering from secondary kidney failure, his body is essentially shutting down due to his diabetes. The small blood vessels are injured from the diabetes and when these become damaged they can not clean the blood properly. The medications are also contributing to the decrease in kidney functions and speeding up the process of failure. He responded to all statements and questions with an “okay, I understand” answer. He knows the end is near and while I believe he is more than ready to take his journey to the other side, he isn't ready to endure the pain and discomfort he is about to face. When his two doctors were done talking he turned to them and said “you can tell me I am dying, but you can’t help me die any faster?” I couldn't tell if he was asking a question or giving a passive aggressive statement, I believe it was a little bit of both. The doctors looked at him as if they knew exactly how to help him, but their words didn't match their reactions. The Nephrologist put the responsibility on the Hospice doctor and said “this is what your hospice doctor is for, he will keep you comfortable.” Layne responded with “I don't want to be comfortable, I want to be dead.” The Nephrologist sat there with a defeated look; the Hospice doctor replied with “There are laws that would allow you to move to another state, but we can not guarantee your body will hold up through that type of move. At this point in time our hands are essentially tied, but we have lots of options for medications and nursing care. We will make sure you are comfortable and help in anyway that we possibly can. We are now at the point where we need to decide if you are going home and starting dialysis or if you wish to end all drastic measures.” Layne got tears in his eyes and said “I know, thanks for your help.” The doctors left forms and brochures and told I'm to take his time in making his decisions. We sat in deep silence for about ten minutes before either one of us said anything to each other. Layne looked at me and said “It is my life, I should be able to end it when I want to.” I couldn't disagree with him, honestly I completely agreed with him. I wished that I could fight for him and I honestly believe that his doctors wish they could fight for him also. I gave him a hug and asked if there was anything else he wanted to talk about and in a frustrated tone he replied with “ I am done with the pain, I have been doing this for to many years. Who is in charge of deciding these rules? Can you promise me that when you become a nurse you will fight for people like me.”I gave him a pinkie promise and a hug to solidify our promise. While Layne’s story is unique,he is not alone, there are millions of people suffering from chronic illnesses everyday. There are patients wishing and wanting the same thing Layne is fighting for. They want to die, peacefully and comfortable, and by their own free choice. Unfortunately there are only five states where this practice is legal, making options extremely limited. Physician Assisted Suicide needs more advocates to share these stories and give these patients the hope and help they deserve.