Wulfie's Wurld

Editorial: Pulling the Plug

I don't remember my great-grandfather, mainly because he died when my mom and my aunt were still young girls. He stayed in a small "grandma house" behind the main house. He apparently became fairly seriously ill, so they called out the doctor. Back then, doctors made what were referred to as "house calls." You can look it up in older dictionaries. They'd actually come to the house, nighttime and stormy weather, with their little black bag, to check out their patients.

He checked out my great-grandfather and saw that he wasn't long for this world. He went back into the main one and addressed the family. He told them that there was really nothing to be done, to make him as comfortable as possible, and to let him have as much beer as he wanted. The family kept him comfortable and loved, and he died peacefully in his own bed.

In contrast, my dad died in a hospital bed, surrounded by antiseptic smells, and with tubes to feed him, dope him, monitor him, and help him breathe.

I remember the Terri Schiavo debate. I'm sure we all do. There were a lot of opinions about a lot of things, most of them based upon conjecture and politics, and not much on personal desires. The media and the government had placed more metaphorical tubes in that poor family than a whole team of doctors.

And, of course, the debate raged in the political forums, mostly based upon emotional responses and being true to party lines than much of anything else. I got tired of hearing the same worn-out talking points from both sides, and wanted to find out how people really believed. So I posted an anonymous poll with four rather curmudgeonly choices. I expected to get a variety of responses, based upon all the discussion. Here is the poll I posted:

If I'm tubed up the yin-yang and the question arises about whether to pull the plug or not . . .

1. Leave everything in until I'm stiff and cold, cause I plan to fight back no matter what the odds.

2. Yank 'em when they're pretty sure there's no chance--I don't want to be a burdon to my family.

3. I'm too wimpy to decide--I'll leave it to Daddy/Mummy/Wifey/Hubby.

4. I think the Gubmint has my best interests at heart. Let them decide.

What surprised me most about the results of the poll was that despite all the controversy that preceded it, everyone responded with the same choice. Which one was it? Figure it out.

As for me, I like to tell people that when I die, I want to go like my grand-father, peacefully, in my sleep, not yelling and screaming like his passengers.