(no subject)
Feb. 19th, 2011 12:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
foolsguineahttp://jessicaleejernigan.typepad.com/jessica_lee_jernigan/2010/12/blessed.html
The doctors my grandma saw in October made it clear that she was dying. They did not send her home; she chose to go home, and her family chose to care for her. We had the chance to celebrate with her, and hospice care made it possible for her death to be of a piece with her life. I think I can speak for my whole family when I say that we were blessed to have those last months with her—and “blessed” isn’t a word I use very often.
There is no “death panel” in this story. Nobody “pulled the plug on grandma”. The debate about healthcare reform had reached the peak of lunacy when my grandfather was dying in hospice care last year, and my anger was intense and personal (You can read about that experience here). It was just so upsetting to hear people equating informed, compassionate end-of-life planning with “death panels”. I understand the political utility of fear, and I understand being afraid to die. But talking about death isn’t courting death. Death doesn’t need an invitation. In fact, communicating with loved ones and preparing for the end actually gives us a small measure of agency when we confront the inevitable—agency we lose if we wait until we are too incapacitated to understand our options or make our wishes known.
Six days after losing my grandma, I was heartened to see that the Obama administration has managed to resurrect the kind of end-of-life planning that was shouted down last year. But I’m also bracing for the return of misinformation and fear-mongering. So, if I can ask you a favor, it’s this: Do what you can to keep the inevitable debate reality-based and compassionate.
The doctors my grandma saw in October made it clear that she was dying. They did not send her home; she chose to go home, and her family chose to care for her. We had the chance to celebrate with her, and hospice care made it possible for her death to be of a piece with her life. I think I can speak for my whole family when I say that we were blessed to have those last months with her—and “blessed” isn’t a word I use very often.
There is no “death panel” in this story. Nobody “pulled the plug on grandma”. The debate about healthcare reform had reached the peak of lunacy when my grandfather was dying in hospice care last year, and my anger was intense and personal (You can read about that experience here). It was just so upsetting to hear people equating informed, compassionate end-of-life planning with “death panels”. I understand the political utility of fear, and I understand being afraid to die. But talking about death isn’t courting death. Death doesn’t need an invitation. In fact, communicating with loved ones and preparing for the end actually gives us a small measure of agency when we confront the inevitable—agency we lose if we wait until we are too incapacitated to understand our options or make our wishes known.
Six days after losing my grandma, I was heartened to see that the Obama administration has managed to resurrect the kind of end-of-life planning that was shouted down last year. But I’m also bracing for the return of misinformation and fear-mongering. So, if I can ask you a favor, it’s this: Do what you can to keep the inevitable debate reality-based and compassionate.
