Approaching the Eisenhower Interchange in Harrisburg is definite sign we are soon to arrive at the Hospital; that God awful place. My curt choice of words is because my Nana is a patient in the hospital, in that awful place, and she is alive, but not living.
The visitation schedule has made my mind slip into auto pilot. I approach the glass entrance, walk about 25-yards, turn right and take the stairs, and at the landing turn left and there it is the second floor Critical Care awaiting area. Then it hits me; the smell of ailing people, sterilized equipment, and utter despair, it hangs heavy in the air.
I take a deep breath and exhale. Then I muster the courage to walk through the door that separates me and my Nana. Tubes, hoses, wires, and a respirator are the equipment that is keeping my Nana clinging to life. As I stand at her bed side fighting back tears and stroking her arm that is swollen from excessive amounts of fluid, I question “Is she living?” Do I want my Nana to live like this?
Medicine is a wonderful profession and physicians and nurses can perform procedures that are almost miraculous. However, the healthcare providers tell me and my family that my Nana’s brain is dead. Her situation is a result of complications from a massive stroke she experienced after surgery to her spinal column. In my incomplete understanding of the human body and medicine I am cognizant that although she is alive, she is not living. At her side I reflect on the decision that her husband, children, and I as part of the family must make, should a machine keep her alive?
Decisions of life and death are heart wrenching. By human nature we are selfish. My selfish side says keep her here with us, her family! But, the selflessness in me says let her go. Let her go home to Heaven where I believe Jesus is waiting to welcome her and she can truly begin living!
The life and death decision was made. Her respirator along with her tubes, hoses, and wires were removed from her lifeless body. Then on April 1, 2000 she shut eyes to the world and opened them in Heaven and once again began living! Now eight years later reflecting on her death I am able to see the courage of a family that allowed someone they loved so dearly to stop suffering and once again be alive and living!
E. Faye Lucas "Nana" - March 24, 1922 – April 1, 2000
1 comment:
I can relate somewhat to your view of hospitals. My brother is diabetic and far from responsible when it comes to taking care of himself. Since he was diagnosed six or so years ago he's been in the hospital around once a year. My first visit each time is usually in the intensive care area. I've never liked the feel of the place. I know it's not nearly as intense as the situation you went through but I see where you're coming from.
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