March 19, 2005

A Very Public Notice

I just want to make one thing very clear, before God and everybody: if ever I am reduced to a persistent vegetative state, like Terri Shiavo - if my cerebral cortex is dead as a doornail and never coming back - pull the fucking plug on my sorry ass, please? Don't let me be a burden to my children. Really. That's my nightmare, as a mother - let them remember The Crazy Mama That Was instead of living with the Drooling Carrot in the Corner for God knows how many years. Let the man that I love have a chance to live and be happy again. He deserves nothing less, if only for putting up with my egregious shit for all these years.

Bear in mind, I'm passing no judgments on the Schiavo case per se. I'm very conflicted about that whole media circus; I feel for the parents, who don't want to see their little girl die, and I feel for the husband, who seems very firm in his conviction that Terri would not have wanted to live like that. I do think it odd that a basic medical test like an MRI has never been performed on Terri, but what the hell do I know? I'm not a medical doctor. I do know that court after court saw fit to let Terri die, and I know that her husband turned down a cool ten million to drop his suit to have Terri's tube removed...but the whole thing is just too tangled, and the medical stuff is unfamiliar territory for me. I haven't seen all the evidence, I'm not qualified to judge, and thank God I don't have to. I don't envy the folks on any of the various legal teams.

Back to myself, I know absolutely what I would want to happen in the event that I ended up like Terri. I'd want to die. But I don't want to starve to death, either. So, in the event of my brain death, I'd like my blogfather and uncle to throw my last party, Cat to act as my, erm, anesthesiologist, and Key to hold my hand. With a group like that, surely we should have one volunteer man enough to shoot me. Perhaps Eric would slit my throat? I feel certain some arrangement could be made.

No, seriously. If ever my legal wishes regarding the removal of life support are subverted, denied, or just plain ignored, somebody print this for the judge.

Posted by Queenie at March 19, 2005 11:50 PM

... it would be very, very messy, dear... but it is your call..

Posted by: Eric at March 20, 2005 11:41 AM

I have read many bloggers and commenters that say I would not want to live in that condition. I have yet to read anyone say "Please keep me alive, even in a vegetative state, even if it makes my remaining relatives suffer. Don't let me die with dignity." Yet, there are thousands fighting to keep her alive. What a strange world.

Posted by: Me2 at March 20, 2005 11:49 AM

I've seen a lot of deaths, kicked a few respirator plugs out of the wall myself, and caused a few more by other means. I have seen very little 'dignity' in any of them. A lot of glazed eyes, looking off into somewhere we will all go, eventually.

If my kids want to go through the bother of keeping me 'alive', like a Chia-Dad, cuz it makes them feel better for some reason, hey. Whatever. I'd do the same for them. We have the technology.

I'll tell you what I wouldn't do, though, for love nor money. Couldn't do.

I would not starve them to death over a period of days.

No, that I would not do.

Posted by: Bane at March 20, 2005 12:26 PM

Not to alarm you, honey, but I went ahead and started the party. To Queenie!

Posted by: Velociman at March 20, 2005 06:16 PM

You know I'd be there honey. I meant to write something similar, hoping too that it would serve as a living will in a pinch, since I haven't gotten off my ass to draft one.

Will a comment get her done? I too would rather be let go... and not 14 years later. And I don't care if I'm starved or smothered or whatever (although a lethal overdose of narcotics might not be bad...)

Either way, if my brain is mush, I'm not likely to notice.

Posted by: Key at March 20, 2005 09:49 PM

Let us make Queenie's site a communal living will. I don't want to be a brain dead defecator. Quality of life issues with me.

I want morphine. Lots of it. In fact, everyone should gather, take a shot of tequila, and let me ride the spike. Yes.

Posted by: Velociman at March 20, 2005 10:46 PM

Okay, I'll play. Prop me in front of a TV playing all of my favorite movies over and over. Give me some good LSD at night, preferably Blue Microdot. Pay some nasty hoor to come in and gobble on me, every so often. If you should decide it is time for me to shuffle off, a cardiac needle with enough smack to kill 10 normal junkies.

Posted by: Bane at March 20, 2005 10:58 PM

I want morphine. Lots of it. In fact, everyone should gather, take a shot of tequila, and let me ride the spike. Yes.

Yeah baby! That's what I'M talkin' about!

Can we put that in a frickin' living will? Because that's the ticket for me.

Seriously. I told my husband today that -- should I be in such a position, shush my mother up, wheel my ass out back and put a bullet in my head. And then show the "authorities" the paper where I signed that that's exactly what I wanted him to do.

Of course that's not going to happen. I plan on getting offed by a runaway Budweiser truck. With a cocktail in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

Politically correct, my aching ass.

Posted by: Margi at March 21, 2005 01:23 AM

I will put you under and you will not feel a thing. I promise you, Cat.

Posted by: catfish at March 21, 2005 11:54 AM
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