My dad passed away on the 28th of August 2008 just three weeks after he turned 80. He had been fighting cancers (and I mean the plural) for the last 22 years surviving against all the odds through 5 major operations. His last three days in this world were nothing but a horrendous sufference. Those last three days slowly and utterly ripped off all his dignity one tiny bit at a time with every single painful breath. He actually died suffocating for THREE long and painful days. All the doctors I called to help him in any way told me that there was nothing that could be done. They said they could not give him any tranquilizers as "it would depress his respiratory centres"! So he was left completely conscious to witness and hear his own misery and to cry out loud "I can't take it anymore! I can't take it anymore!" The last hours before he died we all prayed to God not to heal him but to take him away because we couldn't stand anymore to see him suffering the way he was.
After all these I haven't lost my believe in God - but I'm certainly close to lose my faith in humans. I trust there are a lot others out there that have passed through similar experiences and I would like to know if they can sleep at night without hearing their beloved ones begging for mercy. I would also like to know if there is something that could be done to help the ones we love to pass away in peace and dignity when there is no hope left. I am not sure if I am looking for euthanasia as the answer though.
1 comment:
Hey bro--it's me, your baby sister...from far-far away. I am glad (and somehow surprised) you started this...
I was a second-hand witness to Dad's suffering. I called in every day and our sis kept me informed. I haven't called you because I can't--yet...I feel guilty for so many things: for not bringing my girls to see him and meet him (And I rememebr now how I rolled my eyes every time he told me on the phone "Will I ever get to see your girls?"); guilty for not being there near him when he called me; guilty for not being there with you all to help...When I heard he was so sick, I even felt guilty for every deep breath I was able to take b/c I knew he couldn't even do that...
It's 4:00 am here, across the ocean, and I just went for a drive; went to Dunkin' Donuts to get a cup of coffee (God bless America) and bummed a smoke from a guy at the entrance; the streets were empty and I was listening to U2. I have to send you the song--"Sometimes you can't make it on your own." Bono wrote it when he lost his dad.
As for the belief in God--there is none for me. There can't be a being up there who lets people die in such suffering. Maybe it's easier for you, since you say you still believe; maybe it helps to do that. If I believed, I would be angry at God all the time, for everything that he let happen to our parents.
As for the belief in humans...you know, whenever I am ready to give up on that too, I get proof that there are still amazing people in this world...My close friends and the moms in Hannah's class cooked for me for a whole week; they took turns and brought the food to our door; they took care to celebrate Layla's birthday on the day of Dad's funeral; they were there for me with a hug whenever I felt overwhelmed. But even that made me feel guilty, b/c Mom does not have this support system and she is the one who needs it.
I have always been pro-euthanasia, even before I went throught this experience; I still cannot imagine praying to God for the death of my father...being here, so far away, and so removed form the immediate (and brutal) reality of what you have witnessed, I was still hoping that he will recover somehow, since he was such a resilient man--he recovered so many times from all thosoe surgeries...but the last thing he had was his dignity and it was stripped from him shred by shred because some assholes didn't care enought to help him; even if they did not have to euthanize him, they could have given him a smaller dose of morphine to let him die in peace--it was the last thing they could do.
I have to stop before I write a whole novel here, but thank you for starting this; I think it might help both of us (and others) to cope. Sorry for making it more about myself than about Dad...but there were things I actually needed to write about...I am sorry that you still hear him trying to die...I hear (and see) other things--memories from days gone by...
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