ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Friday, October 11, 1996 TAG: 9610110010
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-7 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: BEN MARTIN
FOR THE PAST few months, I have been trying to convince myself that I am not a selfish person. My mother died in February, and I did not want to lose her. She suffered great pain over the past four years, but I still wanted her to keep living.
It was little matter to me that she had congestive heart disease and was not a viable candidate for transplantation; that she was a diabetic who needed two injections of insulin on a good day; that she had crippling arthritis.
I was willing to keep her around, just like she was.
I should probably be happy that my mother is no longer suffering. I am grateful, but her passing is still too recent for me to rejoice in it. However, I am delighted by the fact that she was, despite her fate, a very happy person who wanted to live as much as I wanted her to live.
Had she lived much longer, though, my mother would have required the care of a nursing home. She was only 56 years old when she died.
How would her family have dealt with further declines in her health had she lived even another six months?
We never discussed the nursing home subject. We all agreed, though, that it would have been a lousy alternative for someone her age. Thank goodness we never had to confront it.
There would have been another choice, of course. It is, perhaps, the most unappealing one of all. Right or wrong, people are making it.
Suppose my mother had contacted Dr. Kevorkian?
I am almost certain that I would have dialed his telephone number for her.
Since I was not forced into that position, of course, I cannot say with complete conviction what action I would have taken. But, I am certain that my heart aches for all of Dr. Kevorkian's patients and their families who have made that gut-wrenching decision. If you have ever witnessed the suffering of a loved one, then this compassion comes easily.
Why is it acceptable to help someone to live but wrong to help someone to die when life, from a strict medical definition, becomes absolutely unbearable?
Helping a suffering loved one make that final transition is the most precious gift that we could ever give to another human being.
Perhaps our hesitance to agree stems from the notion that Kevorkian is ``playing God.'' It is unfortunate that there is this flaw in our natures that demands simple, black or white answers to all of life's questions, particularly the big ones. It does tend to make our complex lives more understandable and less complicated, but, nonetheless, the mysteries of life still remain.
I learned much about the beauty of life by watching how steadfastly my mother clung to hers. She taught me that life is to be relished, not taken for granted. It is not supposed to end just because we are ill, or because we have grown old and have outlived our friends and need special care. If I have learned one thing throughout this whole ordeal, it is that life is good.
My mother lived some of her finest hours in the throes of a serious illness, but she never asked anyone to help her die. She was fortunate for two reasons: She died before this request became necessary, and she fought a ferocious battle to the very end.
There is a stringent test to apply in those situations when people seek to end their pain:
It must be the very last alternative, and the decision to do so must be made by the one who is suffering.
Neither my mother, her family nor her doctor believed that her final hour would come on that February morning when her heart finally stopped. We were all prepared to stay in the battle a while longer. So was my mother; she was intent on living.
Had my mother's health declined further and had she asked for this final act of mercy, I would have tried to muster up all of my courage to help her. It would have been selfish not to help her.
I would not have done it for her money.
I would not have done it because she would have been a burden to me.
I would have done it because I loved her.
That is the most important part of the test.
Ben Martin of Roanoke is director of the Virginia Tech Radio Reading Service at WVTF Public Radio.
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