Lately, there are a lot of thoughts rooted in confusion and helplessness bouncing around my head, cluttering my other thoughts and dominating my time awake. These can be grouped into two different categories, and I’m going to try to explain one of them.

This blog exists, because my friend Paula Weyl Millet encouraged me to write. She wasn’t the first who tried to lead me down this path, but given she was the published author of 8 beautifully written books, I suppose I gave her words more weight. She was also more assertive and unrelenting in pushing me towards documenting my thoughts, and each encounter we had, be it in person or by text, contained a similar comment. If you dig deeply enough, there is only one comment to any post on this blog, and it’s from her. To spare you the trouble of searching for it, it reads:

Thanks for allowing my gentle push to motivate you to share your thoughts with a readership that is soon to come. You are a brilliant writer with an incredible insight born from experience. And your words will touch the hearts of many. Keep at it…someday, this will become a book. I promise.

So proud of you. A journey of a thousand miles begins with that first step.

Paula Weyl Millet

“I promise,” she wrote, words that have frequently revisited my thoughts.

Paula was fighting a terminal diagnosis of stage 4 ovarian cancer, and when I encountered her by sheer chance at the infusion center last May, I knew then I wouldn’t see her again. In the last several months alone, she suffered a stroke, disease progression, heart issues, a lung surgery, and she was not only looking sicker and weaker than ever before, but I could tell by her face and tone she was done. Although she had been there to make sure her blood counts were good enough for her next chemo to proceed, I knew the end was near. I talked her into posing for a selfie, with the full knowledge and acceptance I was saying goodbye to my dear friend and would never see her again.

A few weeks later, she announced on Facebook she had started hospice care. Privately, we engaged in a rather emotional conversation, where I opted to say “thank you” instead of the dreaded “goodbye”. In that conversation, I made a promise to her which piggybacked on the one she made to me above: I may be an old lady, and it may not sell, but I promise by the time I leave this world, I will have published a book. This seemed to bring her such joy in a time of great darkness, and I have every intention of following through.

She went on to express her eagerness to enter this new stage, where pain relief would be a focus, and she could stop enduring the constant physical agony of an aggressive cancer rapidly taking over her body. “I don’t know how much time remains for me,” she wrote, “But I have comfort care. And that is golden.”

Those words continue to haunt me.

Unfortunately, she didn’t receive that pain relief. Several times, she voiced to me privately via text and publicly on Facebook that the pain was increasing. She seemed slightly embittered at times that she spent 7 years fighting Death, and once she finally gave in and decided to let it have her, it continued to toy with her, suddenly refusing to come relieve her of her suffering. She occasionally described an unrelenting pain which dominated every waking moment of her day, and it broke my heart to realize she wasn’t getting the relief and comfort she was so eager to embrace.

By the time she took her final breath in late August, three months after entering hospice care, I welcomed her passing with more of a great relief than any grief-ridden despair. It was heart breaking to know the world had suffered such a huge loss, and that most of it was completely oblivious to it, having never met the amazing individual she was. And the countless tributes to her that flooded my Facebook newsfeed from those who did understand the loss became too painful for me to see each day, so I ended up seeking ways to mute her account, without “unfriending” it completely. But overall, I was grateful for her passing.

My friend had finally stopped suffering.

Paula had finally found that peace she sought.

But her death also triggered a massive debate within myself, and days later, with those around me. I had long been a proponent of “Death With Dignity”, otherwise known as “Right to Die”. In fact, I watched a documentary years ago on Oregon’s law involving that very thing. I was captivated by how orchestrated it all was, and how it was nothing like the misconceptions such a law presents in skeptics. One doesn’t simply decide they no longer want to exist and have a doctor help them die. There is a strict set of criteria, one Paula definitely would have fit, and multiple guided steps a patient must take, from obtaining the prescription, to filling it, and ultimately, in using it…although if you disobey the latter, there isn’t much repercussion you could face, given you’d be dead. But it was so well organized, with such detailed criteria one must fit, it made me wonder why this isn’t adopted nationwide.

Paula certainly should not have suffered. And whether or not she would have opted for “Death with Dignity”, I’m not sure, and that’s not what my internal debate is regarding. Her intense struggles for three months prior to her death was more the catalyst for making me question the government’s refusal to allow individuals with terminal illnesses to die without immense, agonizing suffering.

When I couldn’t figure out the answer to my own questions, I began asking friends why it’s so taboo and against the law to assist those described above to die, sparing them from completely unnecessary suffering.

“Because that goes against the Bible,” was the answer I received from several. “That’s playing God.”

This answer didn’t satisfy me, largely due to the blatant hypocrisy involved. “So if administering medication to peacefully expedite the death of a terminally ill individual is playing God,” I asked, “how is it NOT playing God to administer medication or place a person on machines to prolong their life? Wouldn’t ‘life support’ be playing God? Wouldn’t chemo be playing God? Wouldn’t any medical intervention to prevent the natural progression of illness that would otherwise end in death be playing God?”

My question was rooted in a genuine curiosity, a need to understand, rather than a passive aggressive judgment, but I was repeatedly dismissed. It was implied or sometimes directly stated I was a heathen, I need to repent for my sins, I was destined for Hell for even questioning it, etc.

Rather than shut down my inquiries, this only added to my confusion. I began to reword the question of why “death with dignity” isn’t allowed, adding the confusion about expediting Death being an example of playing God, while prolonging Life is not.

Eventually, I received a new answer: “Because doctors take an oath to do no harm.”

At the time this comment was made, I was still focused on the Biblical hypocrisy and didn’t give it much thought. However, when I did begin to consider it, it, too, led to more questions.

“If a doctor takes an oath to ‘do no harm’, isn’t forcing a patient to needlessly suffer beyond comprehension, when imminent death is a guarantee, causing harm? If the patient is definitely going to die in a short amount of time, and you’re forcing them to endure all of that pain and suffering, when you know it’s only going to get worse and never better, is that not an example of doing harm?”

These thoughts soon dominated my life, until I sat down for a routine appointment with my therapist of 14 years. Oftentimes, my talk sessions are filled with pointless, irrelevant drivel, just a couple of gals engaging in very expensive casual conversation. But on that day, I sat down on the plush couch, twisted my “monkey noodle” fidget toys between my fingers, and blurted out, “I actually have something of substance to discuss. And boy, is it a doozy!”

Eyeing me curiously, she prepared herself a fresh cup of coffee, dramatically shifted in her chair to signify she was getting comfortable, and smiled warmly. “OK, I’m ready. Lay it on me,” she said.

I blurted it all out: Paula had died days prior, but that wasn’t what I wanted to discuss. Instead, I had questions about Death with Dignity, Biblical hypocrisy, the Hippocratic Oath, and how they all tied together. I knew she had graduated from seminary college, so I was particularly interested in her opinion of it all from both a religious and pagan perspective.

By the time I got it all out and looked at her for an answer, she was wide eyed and had stopped blinking. I chuckled, noting, “I told you it was a doozy.”

She took a sip of her coffee, clearly taking the time to go over in her head everything I had just said.

“That’s actually a very good question,” she said after a long pause. “I don’t really have the answer to that, because I honestly never really thought about it that way. Up until you pointed out the discrepancy, I really never considered it before. But you’re absolutely right. You can’t say use of medication to ease the suffering of imminent death goes against God, while the use of it to prolong life doesn’t. I don’t have the answer, but I can validate you in saying that is absolutely a great question.”

The rest of the session ended up being one of the best in recent memory, as she spoke largely from the role of a Christian. One of the bigger focuses were my Christian friends who made me out to be an abomination, a heathen destined for Hell for daring to even question such a thing. One friend in particular told me my doubts were something I’d have to face with Saint Peter and wished me luck in “not going straight to Hell” for “encouraging doctors to murder patients and patients to commit suicide”.

Tracy, my therapist, rolled her eyes. “One of my professors in seminary school told me something I am going to share with you, as it is definitely something I find to be true. He said God has the worst PR team imaginable.”

I laughed, as she continued.

“It’s true! You have all of these people who create their own interpretations of the Bible and start speaking for God, when oftentimes, they’re spewing things He would never agree with. God doesn’t hate free thought and questions. He doesn’t send anyone to Hell for trying to understand something. I think many Christians shut down people who pose questions, because they don’t have the answers, and calling you a heathen, or telling you your doubts are going to send you to Hell, is just easier than them admitting to you, or even themselves, that you have a damn good question they can’t answer with their Biblical knowledge. It’s easier to shut you down. And I really think my professor is right, and most of the time, God hears some Christians spew this nonsense and thinks to Himself, ‘Don’t listen to them! They do not speak for me!’”

I cited a more specific example of something a friend had said to me, and Tracy buried her face in her hands. “That! That is exactly what I’m talking about! God is distancing Himself from her, like ‘Nope, nope, she does not represent me, don’t listen to her.’ But these people who spread this hatred and judgment are so caught up in their identity of a Good, Christian Person, they don’t always realize they are spouting their own personal beliefs with God’s name on it, instead of speaking His actual word. That friend does not represent God. She represents herself and is using God as some sort of witness to her persecution of you. And that’s not how it works. It’s OK to ask questions. You’re trying to understand. Not once have I heard you say, ‘Christians are stupid, because they think x or y.’ I have, however, heard you say, ‘I’m confused and conflicted, because I want to understand x and y, and how it fits in with my belief of z.’ And that’s OK. You don’t get sent to Hell for asking questions.”

Before I knew it, the 50 minute session was over, and Tracy again repositioned herself in her chair. “I’m sorry I don’t have the answers you’re looking for, Lisa,” she said with obvious sincerity. “But if it helps, I can validate your curiosity and confusion, because I do think you’re right. And anyone who says they have the answer is lying. There isn’t necessarily an answer when hypocrisy is involved, because it’s rooted in interpretation and emotion. And when the Bible is involved, people are less willing to listen with an open mind and heart to ideas they maybe hadn’t previously considered. And interpretation and emotion can both be irrational. So there isn’t an answer to this, and I wouldn’t give much weight to anyone who claims to have the answer. It’s hypocritical, and no one can tell you which side is correct. So even though I can’t give you a definitive answer, I hope my validation that your questions are legitimate ones is enough.”

In a way, it was. She had admitted I had a point and discussed with me the various aspects on both sides of the controversial topic. She also agreed fully with my position on it, as another human with a set of opinions and beliefs. She made me realize the response I got in questioning such things is a fault of the judgmental Christian who can’t just say they don’t have an answer and instead wants to put me down and make me feel badly about my quest to understand.

At the same time, it wasn’t helpful at all. I still don’t understand, and I have the same questions I did when I went into her office. The only difference is I know now it’s OK to have these questions, and asking them to myself or others doesn’t make me a heathen or a bad person.I also now know who I can and can not have such conversations with.

But I still find it all so confusing.

When a person is dying, stripped of all hope for life beyond days, weeks, or months, they are expected to endure any immense suffering that comes their way, suffering that is utterly pointless, when there is no chance of recovery. Even though they have no significant time left, and no quality to that life, they are still expected to live it out and deal with whatever immeasurable pain and struggles they face, until they’re relieved of their suffering by a natural death. Because use of medication to expedite their death is considered “playing God”…or, if you want to use the Hippocratic Oath, “doing harm”, even though there is far more harm in unnecessary suffering than there is the release from torture.

But when a person is initially diagnosed with something like cancer, they are immediately given all sorts of toxic medications, in order to try to rid their body of the deadly cells, rather than simply allow the cancer to take over completely and kill the individual. Medication is used to stop this very natural progression of the illness, with the goal of preventing death. Additionally, in cases like my mom, the cancer starts to shut down vital organs, and they’re placed on machines, aka “life support”, in order to prolong the semblance of life. But that’s not considered “playing God”?

Medication to prolong life is fine.

Medication to end the suffering of an individual who has no chance of recovering, however, is not.

I still don’t understand why this is. How is it “doing no harm” to force a dying individual to essentially drown in fluids trapped within their own lungs?

How is it “doing no harm”, to force a person to live every single moment in excruciating pain, when you know the disease is going to kill them imminently anyway?

How is hooking up a comatose person to machines, to merely mimic the vital functions of life, a perfectly acceptable use of modern medicine?

But giving a person who is breathing on their own, though struggling immensely to do so, medication to ease their pain and end their suffering in a short advance from a natural death is such a bad, taboo, evil, and illegal thing?

The person suffering no pain because they’re comatose is on life support and will die, if you turn off the machines. And that’s acceptable.

The person struggling for every breath and in unimaginable pain, however, is forced to die without medical intervention, because…I don’t know…God?

Please explain it to me. I want to understand. I am not judging anyone for their beliefs, which is, unfortunately, not the same courtesy many have extended to me. All I want is to engage in a civil discussion, where someone can help me understand why this is the appropriate way to use medicine.

Please explain it, as I can’t figure it out on my own.

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