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Death
location: Home
mood: 
sad
sadLast night I taught my usual groups of Tuesday night Prozdor students. I decided to stage a debate for the ethics class, and for masochistic reasons I suppose, I chose to stage a debate on death with dignity. Well, at the time that I was deciding what to teach, I realized I wouldn't need to do any preparation other than reading my already prepared material and photocopying, and I thought this was a good idea. The case that I gave my students is the following:
Bennie, a 12-year-old in Florida, has a kidney transplant. His body begins to reject the kidney, so the doctors dramatically increase the dosage of the anti-rejection medicine. The medicine makes the boy sleepy. It blurs his vision. It makes it hard for him to concentrate. He can’t really read, watch television, or play video games. Even visiting with friends is hard, because his eyes become very light sensitive. He and his mother decide he should go off the medicine and take his chances. He says, “Living this way is not living.” The doctors call it “suicide” and “parental abandonment of responsibility.” Bennie and his mother argue that it is his life. The doctors go to court. The court orders the family to continue medical treatment. You speak for the Jewish tradition.
I divided the class into 2 groups - one side to argue in favor of continuing the medical treatment and one side to argue against continuing treatment (i.e. Continue treatment vs. Reject treament). The other information I gave the students was various Jewish text sources to use in their arguments. The students did a really good and respectful job with this topic, and we had a few minutes at the end of class to discuss the case. I asked each student what they thought really should happen, what would they do if they were G-d forbid in this situation. The vast majority of them thought the boy should continue the treatment despite the side effects. Several of the students said that the side effects didn't seem fatal and that some life was better than no life. At least one student brought up how chemotherapy was better than just dying from cancer. I decided it was time to share my impression of chemotherapy. What follows is a paraphrasing of what I said last night.
I don't know whether Bennie should continue his medical treatment. I believe the decision to continue or end that treatment should be a decision made by Bennie, his mother/parents, and informed by the medical professionals. As for chemotherapy and cancer, I still am working through my feelings about our cousin dying this past November. [Students asked for some details about her] Our cousin was 35 when she died. She had 2 young daughters, ages 5 and 3. She had no history of cancer in her family. She went through 2 years of chemotherapy, at least 1 round of radiation, and numerous surgeries to battle the cancer. [Students asked about the surgeries] She underwent operations that removed part of her colon, her ovaries, part of her lungs, and even tumors from her brain. I don't actually remember if there were other surgeries. She was so strong through all of these efforts. I went with her several times to her chemotherapy appointments. Going with her helped me understand what chemotherapy really was; going with her demystified something that I had been very scared about. People receiving chemotherapy take medicine to help cope with the unpleasant and even painful side effects. There isn't a medicine to help with the exhaustion. One time when I went with her to Dana-Farber, there was a man sitting across from us getting ready to receive his chemotherapy. He was fairly young, probably around 40 years old. He was good looking, well-built. He was joking and flirting with the nurses. He made some phone calls while the nurses set him up to receive his treatment. About 10-15 minutes later, I looked over at his chair again. He was passed out asleep. His treatment ended a little bit before Liz's treatment did. When the treatment was complete, the nurses woke him. He moved so slowly. He looked so much smaller, but I knew he was about 5'10" or 6'0". He no longer flirted with the nurses. It saddened me greatly to see this vibrant person who seemed so kind be transformed by something that was allegedly helping him. I saw the same kind of transformation in Liz. She would come to chemotherapy with a quick and determined stride and leave chemotherapy with a purposeful but slow dragging walk. Do I think she should have continued chemotherapy after her doctors told her there was nothing else to be done? Absolutely not. I'm not sure how I feel about the chemotherapy she received before that point. Maybe it extended her life, and maybe it didn't. It certainly changed her life and not always for the better.
As I told this sad tale, my students were absolutely silent (a rarity for them). Some of them expressed their condolences at the end. I dismissed class as soon as I was done talking since I had held them a bit late to finish up. I was upset that I had become choked up in front of them, though I know my emotional display was honest and not wrong. I don't know whether sharing the story with them was right - part of me says it was too private and personal. On the other hand, I feel like it gave them something to think about since so few of them have any direct experience with chronic illness.
This morning I began reading my usual online "stuff," and I decided to read the Savage Love advice column since a new one gets posted nearly every Wednesday. In today's column, Dan Savage explained why he could not write a column today. His mother died. I don't know Dan Savage personally, let alone anyone in his family. Nevertheless, I cried as I read about his mother's passing. I suppose I was crying about death in general, and I'm certain I was crying again for Liz. Her birthday was on Monday. How do you celebrate, commemorate, or celebrate a birthday for someone who has died? We phoned her husband Evan, and he told us of gifts that he purchased for his daughters and for his in-laws. We offered to spend time with him on Monday, but he counter-offered with getting together this weekend. I baked super-rich chocolate brownies on Monday - Liz said that desserts had to be chocolate, so it seemed appropriate. Still, it's not like I can give something to Evan. The one thing I know he wants can't be given. We all want that and we can't have it.