The Stuff of Life & Death
They say "when it rains, it pours." That has been true in my life these last several weeks and months. At the end of March my apartment building was sold and I was given a 30-day notice by the new owner to vacate my unit. (He wanted to live there!) I had to find a place to move by May 1.
A fellow employee had unexpectedly resigned in March and I was asked to temporarily assume some of her duties. It meant that I was out of town much of April (when I needed to be looking for a place to live...). In fact, I was in town only 8 days the entire month. A dear friend with whom I work and carpool graciously invited me to stay temporarily at his home until I could find a place of my own. I've been there since April 29.
I did sign on the dotted line for a home the end of May, but then the building inspection turned up some rather serious problems that I did not want to deal with, so we walked away from that contract. Just a week later I found another house - less expensive and in a better neighborhood. The inspection on this one went fine and if all goes well, I'll move in on or around the 4th of July. I can't wait (neither can my carpool buddy!).
In the midst of all that, my Dad fell at home and broke his right hip (he broke his left one 2 years ago). As soon as I learned of his injury I sped home to Iowa (280 miles away) to be there when he came out of surgery. Spent a long 5-day weekend at his side. Later in the week he was transferred to a local nursing home to begin rehabilitation therapy. That weekend was Father's Day, so I made the 4-1/2 hour trek again. Dad is depressed and wants to go home. He has tried to get out of the bed, even though he cannot walk yet.
Dad will be 82 in August. He has lived a very full life. But now his sight and hearing are both failing. He has struggled against Parkinson's disease for about 10 years. He has a distended bladder and so he must wear a urinary catheter at all times. After his first broken hip, the doctor told him if it ever happened again he might never walk the rest of his life. Surely his "quality of life" could be rated poor.
I love Dad and have grown quite close to him since my mother died nearly 20 years ago. But I often think about how in heaven, not only will he be able to walk again, he'll be able to fly! Also, he'll be with his own parents, whom he loved dearly. And I can't imagine how he could possibly be happier than he will be there with Mom.
A new booklet titled, Making Health Care Decisions: A Catholic Guide to End-of-Life Care by Father Richard C. Sparks describes the Church's position on all of this.
"Illness, aging, and finally death-of-the-body are a natural part of the life cycle for us all...Death is the inevitable and natural last stage of earthly life, opening us up to the fullness of eternal life.
...to "respect life" means to make decisions that enhance our lives as a whole. Throughout most of our lives, the obvious medical decision is to "forge ahead" - take your medicine, undergo the surgery, do the prescribed treatment that will save your life and enhance your health. But at some point, forestalling the inevitable onset of dying may be futile, wasteful, torturous, and morally wrong."
This pastorally sensitive booklet is taken from a larger book by nearly the same name Making Health Care Decisions: A Catholic Guide (Liguori Publications). The larger edition is edited by Ron Hamel.
There are three other booklets on topics from the larger edition as well: A Catholic Guide to Advance Health Care Directives, by Redemptorist priest, Mark Miller; A Catholic Guide to Medically Administered Nutrition & Hydration; by Michael R. Panicola, and A Catholic Guide: Introduction, also by the editor, Ron Hamel.
Liguori Publications is also a participant in a video series on health care ethics. This video series was prepared in part by the faculty of the Center for Health Care Ethics at St. Louis University.
In today's world of rapidly changing medical technology it is seldom easy to know what to do in some very important circumstances. Usually there is pressure and emotion surrounding those decisions. Thankfully these authors have helped us sort through what the Church teaches so we can make such life and death decisions with proper guidance.
2 Comments:
In January I went to the funeral of a 19 year old who had been afflicted with a degenerative disease. I had taught her when she was 5, and when she was 8. Hers had been a hard, short life. But she had lived it with a lot of gusto.
Her funeral was not a Christian affair at all. It took place on her family farm. At the end they let go a lot of pink balloons into the sky, to symbolise how she was now free of all her physical difficulties, and was free to go ¨dancing with the angels¨. I hope she is dancing her heart out and wearing out zillions of pairs of shoes.
5:43 AM
Sounds like a busy time in your life, I'll say a prayer for you.
9:35 AM
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