When my son was four years old our dachshund, Mollie, died in my arms as the veterinarian injected her with a lethal dose of medicine. I had watched Mollie suffer immensely for three days with seizures, an inability to drink or eat without vomiting, incontinence, and paralysis of her back legs. The pain, confusion, and utter suffering behind her big brown eyes ripped at my conscience. The vet had suggested that we force feed nearly a thousand dollars worth of medications into poor Mollie so that she may get through the weekend. She was clearly dying and the medicine would only be delaying her death a few days. I decided to show mercy on Mollie and not prolong her suffering one more day and opted to euthanize her, a decision that was difficult to participate in but, in the end, the most humane option.
My son was confused about Mollie -how was she supposedly 'gone' when he could still see her? Death, whether brushed off with the religious explanation of a spirit leaving its carcass and floating off to heaven or the more pragmatic idea that the person is simply gone, the body essentially powered off, is not an easy concept to grasp. A life that was once complex with experience, emotions, and thoughts will, eventually and inevitably, cease to exist, and there will never be that individual person again. This idea is too much for many adults to handle, making it a more controversial subject for parents to discuss with their children than sex. With my son, however, I just told him some simple truth: Mollie is dead, her body no longer functions and will never come back on, but we are very lucky to have known and loved her and she will live on in our memories.
While showing mercy to a dying, suffering pet is accepted in our society, the idea of showing that same mercy to a fellow human being, who, unlike a dog, understands their situation and can make the decision to end their lives themselves, is considered taboo by many.
Recently, twenty-nine year old Brittany Maynard made headlines when she moved to Oregon after being diagnosed with terminal brain cancer with only months to live, and took advantage of that state's Death With Dignity law. After meeting the strict requirements (e.g. deemed competent, diagnosed with a terminal illness, and given no more than six months to live) and acquiring the prescription to end her life, Brittany died on her own terms, peaceful, and surrounded by her loved ones.
Many praised Brittany's choice to take control over her death, instead of leaving it to the cancer, but there are some that cannot get past the idea of suicide. Yes, it is a nasty word, but context is everything. Brittany was not suffering from depression, anxiety, or self hate. She was dying a very painful death and made an educated, thoughtful, and difficult decision, after weighing her few options, to die with a sigh rather than a scream.
The idea of taking one's own life wasn't always taboo. The pre-Christian world, at least with the Greeks and Romans, accepted suicide (not that I am condoning everything in antiquity) and it was the Christian interpretation of the bible from St. Augustine in the fifth century that equated the commandment of "thou shalt not kill" with any person, including oneself, declaring suicide a sin. The notion that suicide is an act against God has continued to modern day, although acceptance for the assisted suicide of a terminally ill patient has gone up dramatically in numbers, despite where church leaders stand on the issue. A whopping 70% of those polled in a May 2014 Gallup Poll approved of assisted suicide, compared with 37% in 1948. Perhaps people are taking what their church leaders say with a grain of salt, perhaps there are less congregants these days, and perhaps the air has cleared since World War II. As more states are passing Death with Dignity acts, the idea of assisted suicide is becoming ingrained within our culture. It seems we have come full circle.
Death is difficult because death is final and fighting to live is, after all, a basic primitive instinct that keeps life moving along throughout time. Unless you have faced death and, by doing so, come to terms with it, the inevitable conclusion to life may seem too far off to dwell on or too sad to fathom. This is the bare reason why parents hesitate when their child asks about death and why some are against assisted suicide, regardless of the patients condition. The struggle to keep living is even prominent among the most devoutly religious who, like most of us, fight death with modern medicine, delaying an unsure afterlife.
The fact is that death, the opposite of life, is a natural force to fight against. But when we examine life and try to pinpoint what makes it fulfilling, enjoyable, and worth living, the answer is clear. It is not about the length of a life; it is about the quality. It is not the amount of suffering a person endured; it is the amount of meaning a person gave their life. Did they love? Did they laugh? Did they speak up and find happiness in their existence? Perhaps if we examined the value behind a life, we would better accept and embrace the value behind death.
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