Fighting for Dear Life (32 page)

Furthermore, once the quality of life door is opened, what's to stop a host of rationalizations from being used to end a life? Take the teenage girl who is unhappy about being ‘‘dumped'' by a boyfriend. What if, in the heat of the moment, she wrongly concludes that their breakup is the end of the world? To her, life is no longer worth living. What then? How about the aspiring high school track star who falls and requires knee replacement surgery? What if he can no longer compete and his dreams of going to the Olympics are dashed?

Or what about the sexually abused?

The children of a divorce?

The businessman who loses a fortune?

The woman who is battered by an abusive husband?

The college student suffering from depression?

The victims of a hurricane who have lost everything?

In case you never thought about it, there are trials and misfortunes in life as devastating, or even far worse, than becoming physically or mentally disabled. What then? Should we become a culture that encourages those who have been dealt a difficult hand to give up on life? No. Nor should we be throwing people away merely because of a difficult physical condition.

Consider Terri.

The quality of life advocate scratches his head and wonders, ‘‘How can a bedridden, brain-injured woman who can't feed herself for fifteen years have a purpose?'' I'll tell you how: God. God doesn't do anything without a grand design in mind. While we may not understand or immediately see His plan, it's there. I do not believe it's our job to question His purposes. Instead, it's our job to find His purposes in these situations. In Terri's case, God had an incredible mission for her life even aside from the simple joy she brought and shared with her family. As I've commented before, Terri's life and death caused America and the world to wrestle with fundamental life issues.

Consider Joni Eareckson Tada.

At seventeen, a severe diving accident robbed this beautiful young woman of the ability to use her hands or to walk. A quality of life advocate would argue that she no longer had a life worth living. Yet the fact that she was a quadriplegic confined to a wheelchair didn't stop Joni from getting married and traveling to forty-one countries as an advocate for those with disabilities. And not only did she learn to paint with a brush clenched between her teeth, her works of art are now collector's items.

Here's a woman who understood that God gave her life. Her accident cost her and her family incredible heartache. She continues to need intensive therapy. Yet early on Joni decided that it wasn't the quality of life but the sanctity of life that would compel her to find God's purpose in her situation. Because of her commitment to go on despite her disability, Joni has ministered to millions of people through a daily radio program and through family retreats for the disabled.

THE VALUE OF LIFE

Those who hold a ‘‘sanctity of life'' conviction believe that no price is too high when it comes to caring for the disabled or preserving a life.

The sanctity of life person says, in effect, there is no discussion of cost. Much like dining at a five-star restaurant where the menu doesn't list the price, the cost is simply not mentioned. Nor does a sanctity of life person calculate the impact of someone else's hardship on their own life. They understand that caring for a disabled person will require a lot; it will radically readjust all of life. That's a given. But the cost is not the determining factor when dealing with these decisions.

For people of faith, there's a spiritual dimension. They demonstrate the power and compassion and love of God by ignoring the cost (as the Schindlers did), by paying the price (as the Schindlers did), and by not being concerned about what it's going to do to them. While some members of the press and several pundits blasted the Schindlers' motives as being selfish, the exact opposite was true. They paid a huge price in their fight to care for Terri:

It cost them financially: They fought an uphill legal struggle without deep pockets.

It cost them an enormous amount of time: They spent countless hours visiting their daughter and doing whatever was necessary to save her life.

It cost them emotionally: They constantly worried whether or not Terri was being properly cared for by those who were legally in charge of her well-being.

Furthermore, as I observed working alongside Bob and Mary, there is never a discussion of ‘‘me'' in the sanctity of life equation. Why? Because those who hold this perspective view their life as a living sacrifice; admittedly, that's a countercultural position. The only consideration the sanctity of life person makes is to follow what God says in the Bible. Here, then, are three guiding principles from Scripture:

• God is the giver of all life.

• God is the allower of any disability.

• God and God alone should decide when life ends.

Whenever I share those insights with an audience, a number of folks will say, ‘‘Mr. Gibbs, you're 100 percent correct. That's what the Bible teaches and that's probably what I should believe if faced with such a situation. But I'm not that good of a person.'' Guess what? While I admire them for their honesty, the truth is this: I don't believe anybody is that good of a person.

However, when we by simple faith step forward and say, ‘‘I am going to live what I say I believe,'' at that point God will divinely empower and help us to do what must be done, even when it appears that what is required of us isn't humanly possible. Demonstrating our willingness to line up with His principles and truthfully confessing that we can't do it in our own strength miraculously unlocks His divine provision.

As the saying goes, ‘‘Where God guides, God provides.'' Whenever there is a calling from God, He divinely equips and provides exactly what we need to get the job done.

LEAN ON ME

Before leaving this discussion, there's a subtext to the quality versus sanctity of life debate that's easily missed. Have you noticed how American society seems to place a premium on the ‘‘beautiful people''? We aggrandize those who are exceptionally gifted, talented, athletic, wealthy, or attractive. Their picture-perfect faces and Aquafresh smiles dominate the newsstands. We follow their every move with an almost religious devotion.

In sports, for instance, enthusiasts memorize the latest team statistics and player trades and collect enough memorabilia to fill a room. In the music and entertainment industries, fans binge on the latest juicy morsel of gossip. Entire television shows focus solely on the houses in which these rich and famous live. Magazines have built massive circulations reporting the ‘‘inside scoop'' on today's popular icons as the paparazzi go to bizarre lengths to catch these celebrities on film.

But there's a downside to this all-consuming stargazing.

The fact that we cherish such an external standard of worth means we're bound to diminish the value of those who are weak, handicapped, impoverished, orphaned, or even those who are—dare I say—just plain old average. Is it any wonder, then, that we're tempted to think primarily in terms of the quality of life? We're predisposed to value those who measure up to this false standard of ‘‘worthiness.''

By contrast, the Bible is replete with commands to care for the widows, the orphans, the underprivileged, the downtrodden—those whom God calls ‘‘the least of these.'' No question, Terri Schiavo would fall into that category. So whenever people approach me and ask why I'd fight for Terri Schiavo—a woman who is most likely not going to be able to get a job or be productive, and who will always be, in a certain respect, a burden—I point them to the gospel of Matthew, chapter 25.

Briefly, it's Judgment Day and God is talking to the righteous. God says: ‘‘For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger and ye took me in: Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me'' (35–36). The righteous are standing before God completely baffled at His statement.

They respond by asking, ‘‘Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? or thirsty and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?'' (37–39). In other words, the righteous are saying, ‘‘We don't remember doing any of this for you.'' Notice God's response in verse 40: ‘‘And the king shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, you've done it unto me.''

Who are the least of these?

Anybody who can't give something back to you.

That could be a Terri Schiavo. A senior citizen. A drug addict. A homeless family living in a rescue mission. A single parent. A child living in poverty at home or abroad. The unemployed. Certainly the disabled among us. To care for them requires an acknowledgment that this life is not about us. Instead, like my grandfather, we make a decision to accept whatever God brings into our path, especially the least of these. On Judgment Day, God will say that whatever we have done for these ‘‘unwanted'' and ‘‘undesirable'' people, we will have done it for the King of Kings himself.

Talk about an unmatched privilege!

CHAPTER TWENTY - THREE

IF THERE'S A WILL
THERE'S A WAY

The thirty years of literature on living wills has shown very
disappointing results. The shortcomings of living wills are
real. Dying is just too complicated.

—C
HARLES
S
ABATINO,
A
SSISTANT
D
IRECTOR
, A
MERICAN
B
AR
A
SSOCIATION'S
C
OMMISSION ON
L
AW AND
A
GING
1

I
n the wake of Terri's death, it's safe to say that millions of us scrambled to make sense out of our end-of-life wishes as well as our instructions in the case of a medical emergency. Ironically, Michael Schiavo has joined the chorus of those preaching the virtues of having a living will. I say ironically because Terri never had her wishes spelled out in writing, which was a fundamental flaw in this case. That said, you might be surprised to know that I'm not a fan of the living will.

Here's why.

When I graduated from law school, one of my first jobs as a young lawyer was to create wills for our clients. I was handed an official-looking template for a last will and testament and a sample living will. At first I wasn't sure there was a difference. They sounded similar in name.

As I began to read exactly what these legal documents contained, I discovered that they're radically different. The last will and testament makes a tremendous amount of sense. All adults would do well to obtain one, regardless of age or marital status. More on that in a moment. But there was something about the living will even back then that caused me to have serious reservations. The language seemed to favor death over life. As it turns out, my instincts were right on target.

You see, the first living will was created by the Euthanasia Society of America in 1967. While this pro-death organization changed its name to ‘‘Choice in Dying'' and then morphed into something called the ‘‘Partnership for Caring,'' the group's goals of physician-assisted suicide and their push to see the public widely using these living wills should raise more than a few red flags.

Originally sold as a device to articulate a person's wishes when she could no longer speak for herself, in some cases the living will has turned into a permission slip for doctors to legally withhold medical care and even hasten death in situations that most patients never anticipated. That should come as no surprise since Choice in Dying has been actively lobbying for direct euthanasia.
2
Looking beyond their agenda, there are a number of practical reasons why living wills have fallen into disfavor.

First, advances in medicine and technology are constantly changing.

There was a time when a heart transplant was unthinkable. If back then your living will had said, ‘‘Never put me on a ventilator in the case of heart failure,'' you would have missed the opportunity to be provided a new heart in the wake of emerging surgical procedures that are now considered almost routine. These living wills are locked in time, making them out-of-date with every new treatment and cure that comes along.

Second, it's not possible to anticipate all of the health care scenarios you might face if you were to be incapacitated. By stipulating a set of directives and preferences in advance, you might inadvertently tie the hands of a professional who could otherwise provide a new appropriate treatment. The withholding of medical care occurs far too frequently due to a vague and poorly worded living will.

Third, the law governing medical care is constantly changing. In Terri's case, the provision of food and water was not considered medical treatment or artificial life support at the time of her injury. Over time, euthanasia advocates worked to revise state law so that ‘‘artificially provided sustenance and hydration'' would be redefined as a ‘‘life-prolonging procedure'' rather than ordinary care, as it was previously medically categorized for at least half a century. Almost overnight in Florida, offering food and water through a feeding tube was legislatively reclassified as ‘‘medical treatment'' in the context of a medical setting. That change gave the courts new authority to end lives in situations such as Terri's.

I'm not the only person who recognizes these and other disadvantages of the living will. Far too often we wrongly think that drafting a living will is no different from ordering a Whopper at Burger King— you know, have it your way. The problem is that we cannot anticipate all the complexities of a future medical emergency. Charles Sabatino, the associate director of the American Bar Association's Commission on Law and Aging, put it this way: