Death, Dignity, and Law
by Chris Chaney
During the winter of 1995, my father was struggling for
his last hours of life. Cancer had spread throughout his entire body, and
the simple act of breathing required a monumental effort.
Four weeks prior to this day—still lucid in his thought
processes—my father signed a “Do Not Resuscitate” (DNR) contract so that no
extraordinary means would be taken to maintain his life. This contract was
to be entered into a computer database, which would allow verification by
the emergency medical personnel.
This was his wish, and we supported it as a family. It
was now just after mid-night, with our entire family gathered around my
dad’s hospital bed, which was placed in the middle of our family room. It
was apparent that my father would not live much longer. The pause between
each breath was increasingly becoming longer. Finally, he stopped
breathing. My mother called 911 [realizing that in the state in which we
lived, paramedics were required to respond and declare the time of death].
This was his choice; his power; his freedom.
Upon arrival, we informed paramedics of my father’s
condition and the DNR contract. Using a portable radio, the paramedic
supervisor asked dispatch to verify the DNR. With all that was taking
place in the family room of my dad’s home, we were shocked to hear the
dispatcher respond, “…records indicate no DNR on file.” After asking for a
recheck, the supervisor turned to us and said they would need to start CPR
and make every effort to revive my father.
My mother—who was already saddened by my father’s
condition—politely explained that indeed, there was a DNR signed and
recorded. Following a long pause, the supervisor spoke to the attending
paramedics, “…put your equipment away, we’re not going to do anything other
than confirm his passing away.” There were tears in our eyes, and even in
the eyes of some of the paramedics.
This supervisor—with the support of his fellow
paramedics—made a decision to look beyond and above the policy. Some might
even say they looked above the law.
So, what does all this mean? Can judgment, balance,
common sense, and the “spirit of the law” ever be removed from the medical
community? Do we force medical professionals into subtle, discrete, and
hidden techniques of allowing patients to die with dignity? Do we take
away caregivers freedom?
The creation of such policy and law should not be
driven exclusively by the latest and largest civil juror verdict. Verdicts
do have a place in a society of “checks and balances,” but have they
recently risen to a position of dominance in influencing policy and law?
We must continue to understand the role of human
judgment, dignity, responsibility, respect, and accountability. This
is not about medically assisted suicide, but more about the opportunity to show
respect and judgment for life and human suffering.
I would hope that all who are involved in setting
policy, standards, and law—as it pertains to human life and medical
treatment—be given the opportunity to act with judgment, respect, dignity, and accountability.
All this must be used or allowed to be used in
conjunction with the freedom to pass with dignity; feeling secure in knowing
that your wishes - not blind policy - will dictate the end. Knowing
that one is free to die with dignity is an important part of creating a
sense of personal balance in living and dying. |
