Thin Ice
I have hesitated to share my opinions on the Schiavo case for several reasons: I don't want to alienate readers; my ideas on the subject are vague and difficult to formulate; I felt the subject might be too weighty for such a lackadaisical affair as a blog.
That said, I've decided to share my opinion. This is, if anything, a hot-button issue, and I realize and accept that the majority of the country does not share my opinion. There is even a large chance that I am wrong myself, and too biased to see it. But for right now, it is there, and deserves to be shared.
As a future lawyer, I agree with the legal system totally and completely. The judges, whose job it is to follow the letter of the law, have done their job with honor and dignity. The tube should be removed. Court after court has upheld the statutes relating to the case and found that enough evidence exists to prove Mr. Schiavo is carrying out her wishes. Fair enough.
Spiritually and morally speaking, however, I can not come to terms with the decision in my soul. It doesn't sit right. Here is where my words fail me, for the feeling is not something that can be expressed through language. It is on the fringe, next to my hair raising on end at a surprise sound in the night and the dreams I can't remember. I feel like an old shed that's shifted off center, slowing waiting to collapse with the next new snow. The clouds are gathering and the wind's picking up.
And that's all I have, just a suspicion that all life is precious and deserves to be held onto with the strength of a god. I can't prove it with a syllogism or explain it to the Supreme Court, but it rings true within me. We should "rage, rage, against the dying of the light" until all our fight is gone. Our legacy on earth deserves it and our sense of honor demands it.
I've told my wife that if a machine is being used to make me breathe, pull the plug after the doctors say a chance at recovery is slim. I don't want to be taken over by a machine. For some archetypal reason I can't understand, I see a feeding tube in a different light entirely. I don't view "life support" as something you can stop for a day and then turn back on. Life support is constant and omnipresent, a not too gentle reminder that the body cannot survive on its own. But Schiavo right now is surviving- her breathing body is proof enough of that. Her body, like a warm engine, doesn't want to die. Right now, cells are burning whatever energy they can in a futile attempt to live. There is a primitive code in her genes that sings the song I hear- that life is dear and not to be thrown away. Our bodies were not designed with "kill-switches"; we run until we can't find fuel, are severely damaged, or we simply wear down.
I know I am young and that my ideas are sometimes ill-founded, but I hope this idealistic streak never fades completely away. And I hope that when I face death, I do so knowing that I did everything in my power to stave it off. There will be no welcoming party for death when I die.
Feel free to share your opinions- I'm not a whacked out fundamentalist or someone who thinks he's always right. I promise I won't jump down your throat.
That said, I've decided to share my opinion. This is, if anything, a hot-button issue, and I realize and accept that the majority of the country does not share my opinion. There is even a large chance that I am wrong myself, and too biased to see it. But for right now, it is there, and deserves to be shared.
As a future lawyer, I agree with the legal system totally and completely. The judges, whose job it is to follow the letter of the law, have done their job with honor and dignity. The tube should be removed. Court after court has upheld the statutes relating to the case and found that enough evidence exists to prove Mr. Schiavo is carrying out her wishes. Fair enough.
Spiritually and morally speaking, however, I can not come to terms with the decision in my soul. It doesn't sit right. Here is where my words fail me, for the feeling is not something that can be expressed through language. It is on the fringe, next to my hair raising on end at a surprise sound in the night and the dreams I can't remember. I feel like an old shed that's shifted off center, slowing waiting to collapse with the next new snow. The clouds are gathering and the wind's picking up.
And that's all I have, just a suspicion that all life is precious and deserves to be held onto with the strength of a god. I can't prove it with a syllogism or explain it to the Supreme Court, but it rings true within me. We should "rage, rage, against the dying of the light" until all our fight is gone. Our legacy on earth deserves it and our sense of honor demands it.
I've told my wife that if a machine is being used to make me breathe, pull the plug after the doctors say a chance at recovery is slim. I don't want to be taken over by a machine. For some archetypal reason I can't understand, I see a feeding tube in a different light entirely. I don't view "life support" as something you can stop for a day and then turn back on. Life support is constant and omnipresent, a not too gentle reminder that the body cannot survive on its own. But Schiavo right now is surviving- her breathing body is proof enough of that. Her body, like a warm engine, doesn't want to die. Right now, cells are burning whatever energy they can in a futile attempt to live. There is a primitive code in her genes that sings the song I hear- that life is dear and not to be thrown away. Our bodies were not designed with "kill-switches"; we run until we can't find fuel, are severely damaged, or we simply wear down.
I know I am young and that my ideas are sometimes ill-founded, but I hope this idealistic streak never fades completely away. And I hope that when I face death, I do so knowing that I did everything in my power to stave it off. There will be no welcoming party for death when I die.
Feel free to share your opinions- I'm not a whacked out fundamentalist or someone who thinks he's always right. I promise I won't jump down your throat.
posted by Yorick at 6:54 PM
2 Comments:
I don't feel comfortable even making an opinion in this case. It astounds me that so many people are willing to rush to one side or the other based on the one-dimensional impressions presented in the news.
This is a deeply personal issue. None of us really knew Terri Shiavo before the heart attack or how she changed as a result of her injuries. Because of this lack of understanding, I don't feel Joe Public has any right to give our opinions on this situation. I trust that the legal system had the time and means to make an informed decision in this matter.
Would all of this matter if she was from lower class minority immigrant family in the united states. I doubt that anyone would give this a thought or a care any longer than 30 seconds before they move on with their lives. Also I wonder how many days she would have been alive after her accident if she was a none english speaking minority. This was just another point of view to consider and I'm just curious what your thought would be.
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