It took me three weeks to even begin to write this and a lot longer to complete it. It was May 4th when I decided the time had come. Every morning I secretly hoped that she had not made it through the night and had simply slept through her final moments. But it was not to be. I had taken care of her through most of her life and she left it to me to complete the cycle.
I had spent more constant and companionable time with her in my adult life than I had with anyone else. She had gone with me to movies and restaurants. She helped me study through law school and flight tests. She was a constant presence but not a demanding one. For so long, she was good with what I had to give and I loved having her quiet, warm contentment with me.
At the end she wasn’t comfortable or content. She roamed seemingly aimlessly. I couldn’t find in her a contentment that wasn’t wrapped in sleep. She only seemed to find solace in either a medicated stupor or lethargic sleep. Her little body went from 10 pounds to seven in about three months. It just couldn’t go on that way.
I kept thinking that maybe she would have a good day and I could justify postponing that final day. Was it enough for her to get a deep breath of the sweet smell of privet hedge on a mild spring day to keep on going? Was it enough for her to have a gentle touch or a good meal? In the end my decision came from the ever basic “do unto others” rule of life.
It wasn’t a life that I would choose to live and it wasn’t the one that she had lived for so long. Without having her to tell me otherwise, I had to choose for her. We do that all the time for those creatures we know are in pain or are suffering.
As adults, we make all manner of momentous decisions. What school to attend, who to marry, to have or not have children, to accept a job or to change jobs all qualify as significant and life changing decisions we can accept or let pass by. Why should death be any different?
The respect accorded adults is to be able to be autonomous and responsible for the decisions that we make and their ensuing consequences. The permanence of death should make it even more significant that we are able to choose the when and how. The ultimate indignity would be to subvert someone’s will on how they choose to die.
I never recall being conflicted about whether someone should be able to choose how they live, up to and including when and how they get to shuffle off this “mortal coil.” I remember the days of Dr. Kevorkian back in the 90s. He did us a service by bringing the dialogue about end of life decisions to the political and personal landscape for thorough examination and discussion.
That discussion remains relevant today as some states grapple with the enactment of a “death with dignity act.” The Economist recently ran an article on the worldwide changing attitudes about physician-assisted death. Oregon has had legislation in place since 1997. Washington in 2008 and Vermont in 2013 both have enacted such laws.
We use our physicians to help us with living a better life, why would we choose to ignore their abilities or punish them if they are willing to help us with a better death.
The value of an individual’s life seems to me to be determined by the one who is experiencing it. If it isn’t worth living for the soul who is bearing that pain, then who am I or anyone else to say they should tough it out. If the disease is terminal and the pain is unrelenting but for drugs then where is our compassion and humanity for that individual to make that final choice?
I probably waited too long for Maggie, but it was because I was being cowardly and selfish. I didn’t want to lose her. I will do a better job for myself if it becomes necessary.
On a related note, Oregon is a beautiful part of the country.
The Dispatch Editorial Board is made up of publisher Peter Imes, columnist Slim Smith, managing editor Zack Plair and senior newsroom staff.
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