Blessed

Sarah Palin, the 2008 Republican vice-presidential candidate, and Representative John A. Boehner of Ohio, the House Republican leader, led the criticism in the summer of 2009. Ms. Palin said “Obama’s death panel” would decide who was worthy of health care. Mr. Boehner, who is in line to become speaker, said, “This provision may start us down a treacherous path toward government-encouraged euthanasia.” Forced onto the defensive, Mr. Obama said that nothing in the bill would “pull the plug on grandma.”

A recent poll by the Kaiser Family Foundation suggests that the idea of death panels persists. In the September poll, 30 percent of Americans 65 and older said the new health care law allowed a government panel to make decisions about end-of-life care for people on Medicare. The law has no such provision.— “Obama Returns to End-of-Life Plan That Caused Stir”, New York Times, December 25, 2010

In October, I got a call from my mom. She told me that my grandmother was dying. By the time Ted, Frances and I arrived in Ohio, my grandma had already been moved from the hospital to my aunt’s house. She had stopped taking the various life-extending medications that most 89-year-olds take, and her caretakers—her children, their spouses, her grandchildren, and a hospice nurse who visited the house—had shifted to palliative therapy, mostly painkillers and some anti-anxiety drugs. She was allowed to eat whatever she wanted; nobody was concerned about her cholesterol levels anymore. Nobody gave her a hard time for smoking—in fact, people who had been trying to get her to quit for forty years were buying her cartons of Pall Malls. Relatives from all around the country came to see her.

My grandmother bloomed under this regimen. She gained weight. She was lucid most of the time. She  came to my fortieth birthday party and had a glass of wine—made acceptable to her palate with the addition of a tablespoon of sugar.  She had the chance to hold a brand-new great-grandbaby. And, on December 20, she died at home, with four of her seven living children at her side.

The doctors my grandma saw in October made it clear that she was dying. They did not send her home; she chose to go home, and her family chose to care for her. We had the chance to celebrate with her, and hospice care made it possible for her death to be of a piece with her life. I think I can speak for my whole family when I say that we were blessed to have those last months with her—and “blessed” isn’t a word I use very often.

There is no “death panel” in this story. Nobody “pulled the plug on grandma”. The debate about healthcare reform had reached the peak of lunacy when my grandfather was dying in hospice care last year, and my anger was intense and personal (You can read about that experience here). It was just so upsetting to hear people equating informed, compassionate end-of-life planning with “death panels”. I understand the political utility of fear, and I understand being afraid to die. But talking about death isn’t courting death. Death doesn’t need an invitation. In fact, communicating with loved ones and preparing for the end actually gives us a small measure of agency when we confront the inevitable—agency we lose if we wait until we are too incapacitated to understand our options or make our wishes known.

Six days after losing my grandma, I was heartened to see that the Obama administration has managed to resurrect the kind of end-of-life planning that was shouted down last year. But I’m also bracing for the return of misinformation and fear-mongering. So, if I can ask you a favor, it’s this: Do what you can to keep the inevitable debate reality-based and compassionate.

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Blessed

Sarah Palin, the 2008 Republican vice-presidential candidate, and Representative John A. Boehner of Ohio, the House Republican leader, led the criticism in the summer of 2009. Ms. Palin said “Obama’s death panel” would decide who was worthy of health care. Mr. Boehner, who is in line to become speaker, said, “This provision may start us down a treacherous path toward government-encouraged euthanasia.” Forced onto the defensive, Mr. Obama said that nothing in the bill would “pull the plug on grandma.”

A recent poll by the Kaiser Family Foundation suggests that the idea of death panels persists. In the September poll, 30 percent of Americans 65 and older said the new health care law allowed a government panel to make decisions about end-of-life care for people on Medicare. The law has no such provision.— “Obama Returns to End-of-Life Plan That Caused Stir”, New York Times, December 25, 2010

In October, I got a call from my mom. She told me that my grandmother was dying. By the time Ted, Frances and I arrived in Ohio, my grandma had already been moved from the hospital to my aunt’s house. She had stopped taking the various life-extending medications that most 89-year-olds take, and her caretakers—her children, their spouses, her grandchildren, and a hospice nurse who visited the house—had shifted to palliative therapy, mostly painkillers and some anti-anxiety drugs. She was allowed to eat whatever she wanted; nobody was concerned about her cholesterol levels anymore. Nobody gave her a hard time for smoking—in fact, people who had been trying to get her to quit for forty years were buying her cartons of Pall Malls. Relatives from all around the country came to see her.

My grandmother bloomed under this regimen. She gained weight. She was lucid most of the time. She  came to my fortieth birthday party and had a glass of wine—made acceptable to her palate with the addition of a tablespoon of sugar.  She had the chance to hold a brand-new great-grandbaby. And, on December 20, she died at home, with four of her seven living children at her side.

The doctors my grandma saw in October made it clear that she was dying. They did not send her home; she chose to go home, and her family chose to care for her. We had the chance to celebrate with her, and hospice care made it possible for her death to be of a piece with her life. I think I can speak for my whole family when I say that we were blessed to have those last months with her—and “blessed” isn’t a word I use very often.

There is no “death panel” in this story. Nobody “pulled the plug on grandma”. The debate about healthcare reform had reached the peak of lunacy when my grandfather was dying in hospice care last year, and my anger was intense and personal (You can read about that experience here). It was just so upsetting to hear people equating informed, compassionate end-of-life planning with “death panels”. I understand the political utility of fear, and I understand being afraid to die. But talking about death isn’t courting death. Death doesn’t need an invitation. In fact, communicating with loved ones and preparing for the end actually gives us a small measure of agency when we confront the inevitable—agency we lose if we wait until we are too incapacitated to understand our options or make our wishes known.

Six days after losing my grandma, I was heartened to see that the Obama administration has managed to resurrect the kind of end-of-life planning that was shouted down last year. But I’m also bracing for the return of misinformation and fear-mongering. So, if I can ask you a favor, it’s this: Do what you can to keep the inevitable debate reality-based and compassionate.