I live in Florida, a state that has no “death with dignity” law, so for eight days I sat by my wife’s bedside in the hospital waiting for her to die.
If we had such a law, it would have saved us months of anguish. It would have given my wife a peaceful death in at home.
She would have been spared the pain caused by the tumors growing in her spine, her pelvis, her lungs, her brain, her breast and her esophagus.
She would have been spared the experience of losing her ability to walk unassisted, to bath unassisted, to sit upright unassisted and eventually to sip water unassisted.
She would not have suffered from being wakened every 2 hours to be given pain medication that she desperately needed – even though it tasted so bad she could no longer eat, it robbed her of her mind and it only dulled the pain.
She would not have been so embarrassed by her inability to think clearly that she avoided calling friends and family for months.
She wouldn’t have lain in bed, wracked with pain for months. She wouldn’t have had to whisper to me in the night, “I’m afraid. Everything hurts. What’s going to happen to me?”
Instead she got to suffer a painful, drawn out death.
We tried to avoid this by considering our options:
- Suicide by her hand.
- Murder by mine.
- Moving to a more compassionate state.
None seemed like a good idea.
Suicide. If she had the right drugs, this might have worked. But we were worried that she might take all of her medications and still remain alive. That would be awful because then she’d have no pain medications, no support and nowhere to turn. She didn’t want to shoot herself. She thought that would hurt. Plus she didn’t want to put me through the aftermath of suicide by gun.
Murder. I would do anything for my wife. Even this to ease her pain. But could I strangle her, smother her, gas her, poison her or overdose her? Could I make it painless for her? Would I be able to do it and not go to jail? I talked to people who know better than me about killing. I learned that none of these options are foolproof. All would be painful for my wife. And it was likely doing this would lead to me being imprisoned.
Moving. The closest “state” that allows death with dignity is Washington DC. We briefly considered movin there. But, in the last 6 months as her condition deteriorated, Ellen only wanted to be home. She was comforted by the site of her garden, visits from our pets and the familiarity of our bed. It was one of the only things that brought her some peace when she was in horrific pain. Also, we are close to Zack. Being here meant we saw him nearly every day. Moving, even short term, would throw all of this into disarray.
As a result, she was left with nothing but a long, drawn out death without dignity because the State of Florida lawmakers don’t care enough to allow its residents to die in peace.
When we came to inpatient hospice over a week ago my wife was desperate for relief from her pain.
She hadn’t slept in days. No position was comfortable, She’d jump up from lying down, to sitting up, then pulling herself to stand. She’d try to take a few steps and then collapse in pain. She’d rock, she’d cry, she’d whimper.
I called our hospice nurse two days in a row. We increased my wife’s pain meds and it had no affect. Finally the hospice doctor said, “There’s nothing more we can do at home She needs to go to the hospital where we can give IV medications.”
My wife cried and begged to me,
“I don’t want to die in a strange place. Please don’t let me die there.”
But we went because her pain got unbearable.
After we arrived at the hospital, she was given IV medication for pain and sedation. This helped in a way that her meds at home no longer could. Within hours she was partially sedated and her pain was held at bay somewhat.
Still for two days, she remained partially aware. She was agitated, confused and still in pain. Multiple times she tried to stand up, get out of the bed and go home.
When she could no longer summon the strength to get out of bed, she’d grab my hand to try to pull herself up in bed and say,
“Please help me up. Get me out of here.”
And I’d tell her the truth. If we could get her pain under control, I would take her home with IVs and a nurse so she could die at home.
By the third day, I knew she was never coming home. They had been increasing the medications hourly. My wife was in a near comatose state. But not quite – she still got agitated and seemed in pain whenever she was disturbed.
I did everything I could to let her die a peaceful death at home.
But I failed.
Nine months after she was first diagnosed…
Six months after she had half her lung removed to “cure” her…
Five months after her first try at chemo failed…
Four months after she could no longer walk unassisted…
Three months after she became 90% bedridden due to pain…
Two months after we learned the cancer had spread throughout her body…
One month after we signed up for hospice…
…my wife died in the hospice unit of the hospital.
It didn’t have to be this way.
There are nine states (I think) that have death with dignity laws where a terminal patient can die peacefully by drinking a solution that let’s the patient drift off to sleep and not wake up.
We can do better.
We should do better.