**This is a common sense point/counterpoint on the Terry Schiavo case out of Florida. We make no legal argument whatsoever. For a legal analysis, please visit Abstract Appeal.**

When I decided to write about the “right-to-die” issue I was thinking about the Terri Schiavo case. She is the Florida woman who suffered a heart attack in 1990 as a result of a chemical imbalance (due to her previously undiagnosed bulemia) and has been in a persistent vegetative state since. Friday, when I read that her parents had won a three-week injunction to prevent her husband from removing her feeding tube I was disappointed and sad. Although I had not been following the case closely, the right to die is an issue I have had to deal with, sadly, on a number of occasions. I had been vaguely keeping tabs on the Schiavo case for the past few years and recently I was optimistic that the suffering of everyone involved would soon be over. But apparently it will continue for at least a few more weeks.

As I started to research the Schiavo case I realized I couldn’t write about it accurately for two reasons:
1) There are a ton of accusations and unsubstantiated rumors floating around about this case.
2) As I did some preliminary research it struck me that this is an intensely personal and private family matter. Just because it has made national headlines does not mean I have the right to comment on it.

So rather than wade through the muck of the Schiavo case, I’ll speak more broadly about this issue, using the case only to illustrate some key points.

I have personally had the unpleasant experience of being in the ICU while right to die issues were being discussed with reference to people I knew and loved. Some people crumble in this situation and some, miraculously, thrive. I learned well from my mother and aunt that patients and their families have to take control of their medical care because their own priorities may be different than the priorities of their medical professional. Whenever a doctor presents my mother with a difficult medical decision regarding herself or someone she loves my mother always counters with “What would you do if it were your mother?” in an effort to get the doctor to stop acting like a heroic professional and act a little more like a person.

From my experience in the ICU I have found that our society and medical professionals value life above all else – this is not how I was raised. When your father is a severe claustrophobic who is petrified of being conscious but unable to move or communicate and your mother has dealt with the ravages of both Alzheimer’s Disease and congestive heart failure on her parents you learn something about quality of life over quantity. My family is pragmatic about life and death issues in a way that often alarms others.

Here’s the thing: Everyone dies. It’s the most certain part of anyone’s life. While I’m sure I’ll be just as terrified when my time comes, it will come. I hope it will be fast and painless and come after a long healthy life with children and grandchildren that adore me, but whenever it comes I hope I will have the strength to not fight it. Feeding tubes and respirators – these things are not life. They prolong a scientific notion of life, but they are not the spirit of life and it’s the spirit that counts.

One of the things that has upset me most about the Schiavo case is that it is family members fighting family members. It is not the state or the government that is prolonging Terri Schiavo’s life (though Jeb Bush has stepped in on behalf of the parents), it is her parents against the wishes of her husband. Her parents don’t understand why he won’t allow them to take over the cost and care of Terri Schiavo and be content to fade into the distance. This is problematic for me on two fronts:
1) As a recently married person with a strained relationship with my parents, I cannot imagine my parents rather than my husband making a decision on this scale for me. As people, we grow. Our parents may know us best at 11 or 12, but at 30 or 40 a case may be made that the person we chose to marry might know us better.
2) If the Terri Schiavo’s parents think that taking on the medical costs and care would solve the problem, they are truly missing the point. Michael Schiavo believes that his wife would not want the feeding tube and he is her legal decision maker. If he truly believes that she would not want the tube, just transferring the costs and responsibility to her parents is not a viable solution. And more importantly, though I am projecting here, Michael Schiavo needs to mourn. He has lost his wife to a persistent vegetative state, but from personal experience, I know it is hard to mourn and continue with life until someone is really gone.

A much-loved uncle of Sam’s (my husband) died a few years ago. About a year after his death Sam and I had dinner with Sam’s aunt, the widow. We talked about the possibility of her dating. She told us that her late husband had told her long before his death that people with good marriages tend to date after the death of a spouse. He contended that when you lose someone you truly love and who truly loved you, you move on, because you know they would want you to. She said at the time she wasn’t ready to date yet, but she was looking forward to the time she would be, because she knew that’s what her late husband would want. I found this to be a truly healthy view of death and mourning. But to move on, you have to be able to say good bye. While someone is lingering in a vegetative state, the tubes and machines prolong their death and the ability of the living to go forward.

Americans don’t like to talk about these things. A lot of my friends think I have an unhealthy obsession with the morbid, but I truly find death worth talking about. Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away.

You may disagree with everything I have had to say, and that is entirely your right, which I completely support. But no matter your feelings on the matter, please, write a living will. I implore you, whoever you are. Make your intentions clear and detailed. And make them known to your loved ones. I can tell you that an emergency room is an awful place for your loved ones to find out something they didn’t know about you. And when family members fight over decisions of this magnitude, the consequences are lasting and often unpleasant. Plus, if you were the one in a coma, wouldn’t you like to be able to give your family the peace of mind of knowing what you’d truly like to happen next.

The other side of the argument (written by Matt) is here.