“For the love of God, I am begging you please, don’t let my daughter die of thirst,” she said.

Terri Schiavo Fading Quickly

Please pray for Terri and her family.

Terri Schiavo suffered a cardiac arrest in 1990. Her brain was deprived of oxygen and she lapsed into a “persistent vegetative state.” That was fourteen years ago. Let her live or let her die? Who has the right to decide on Terri Schiavo’s fate? While this is being debated, Terri’s life hangs on the line. The tube that had allowed her to be fed was removed last Friday. She is not allowed to be nourished or hydrated. Dying by starvation and dehydration is a painfully slow process. It will take anything from two to four weeks for Terri to die.

One can only speculate why, after being awarded more than US$1 million in a malpractice suit that provided for Terri’s lifetime care, her husband, Michael Schiavo, is unrelenting in his pursuit to end her life. According to Michael, on several occasions before her cardiac arrest, Terri had indicated to him that she would not want to continue living should she be in a condition she currently is in. It was exposed that this was not revealed by Michael during the malpractice proceedings.

Terri’s case brought memories of another painful episode of Mum’s last few days to the fore. When she lapsed into a coma and could not be fed or take her medicine orally, I decided not to send her back to the hospital. I believe that was her wish and I was determined to fulfil it.

“If I die, I want to die at home,” she had pleaded to me at the hospital. “Please take me home.”

My decision was based on those words. To take her back to the hospital and get a feeding tube or an intravenous drip inserted would have prolonged her life, for how long I do not know. But that was not what she had wanted. I stopped feeding her and stopped her medication. What was I supposed to do when she was no longer responsive to all stimuli short of sending her back to the hospital?

Friends that I consulted had their reservations regarding my decision. I could sense from the hesitation in their voice. However, they advised me to hydrate Mum, or at the very least keep her lips wet. Following their advice, Mum’s lips were kept moist with a cotton ball every half hour.

When Peter came, he insisted that I feed Mum. He could not bear the thought of Mum going hungry. He crushed the tablets and mixed it with honey and fed Mum, bit by bit. She had problems swallowing. It was also a slow process because the medicine tasted awful even with the honey.

In a way, I am glad that Peter was adamant that Mum be fed. It was my mistake in not persisting to feed her. I made the decision to stop because the milk that was fed to her all dribbled out from the corner of her mouth. Eventually Mum learned to swallow. However, all oral medication was discontinued. The only medicine administered was rectal suppositories for her persistent fever.

That all happened within a frame of two days. I have no guilt in not sending Mum back to the hospital. I truly believe that was what she had wanted. As her only son, it was my duty to comply with her last request. She wanted the dignity to die at home. She died at home, surrounded by loved ones. I truly believe that was what she had wanted.

Decisions like these can be very painful and difficult to make. On one hand, we cannot bear to see our loved one’s suffering prolonged but on the other to let them go is one thing that we are dreadfully reluctant to do. Ultimately, it all depends on what one’s spiritual beliefs are. Do we subscribe to a religion that disallows euthanasia? Do we believe that we are at liberty to decide on our own fate and that of other’s?

Terri is a Roman Catholic. So are her parents. The Roman Catholic Church is totally against any from of euthanasia. This should have been taken into account when the judge gave the order to remove the feeding tube. The other question is whether Michael Schiavo or Bob and Mary Schindler, Terri’s parents, are in a better position to decide for Terri; and now whether the courts or the politicians can decide on that too. What has the worth of her life become when it can be decided by another human?

Last night, while we were talking about Terri’s plight, I asked Wuan, “What will you do if I am in a similar situation?”

“I don’t know,” was her terse reply. “What do you want?”

“My faith disallows euthanasia,” I continued, although I was acutely aware that she was getting uneasy.

“That is what we have to abide by then.”

I left it at that. She understood what should be done. My stand was clear. I did not want to pursue that issue with her any further.

Related entries:
Coming Home
The Right To Die?
A Caring Society Reacts
Managing Me

The car park was already full when we reached the Cathedral for the Sunset Mass yesterday. Peter dropped me off at the exit and went looking for an empty spot by the road outside. Thinking that we were late, I started to wheel myself to the ramp leading into the Cathedral.

“Uncle, uncle,” I heard a voice calling from behind.

I stopped my wheelchair, turned around and saw three teenaged boys trailing from behind.

“Can I help you?” the chubby bespectacled Indian boy asked me. I looked at the other two boys, both also of Indian descent, and appeared very determined to lend a helping hand in pushing me.

“I can manage, thank you,” I smiled and waved to them, indicating that I did not need help.

They smiled back, and I went on my way.

When I reached the ramp, I realised that I needed help indeed. It was too steep. Looking around, I saw the traffic warden and asked if he could push me up the ramp into the Cathedral which he did without hesitation.

How wonderful it is that the young have been inculcated with such caring attitudes and adults who lead by example by helping willingly. There is hope yet for Malaysia.

Pets are more than mere companions. Over the years, Mum had kept dogs and cats. They were great teachers especially on instinctive survival at its most basic. They never ever whimpered or howled incessantly when ill. They would seek out their favourite spots and recuperate quietly there.

They seldom needed to see the veterinarian. One that did died. She was hale and hearty when we sent her in to have her ingrown nail problem treated. The vet gave her an injection and she went to dog heaven afterwards. He gave some lame excuses about her having a weak heart and all. Truthfully, it was more like she died of an allergic reaction to the antibiotics.

Pets are great teachers because they still listen to their own bodies. By observing them, I learnt a lot. Their domestication had not taken away those primal natures that are essential to their continued existence. They eat when hungry, sleep when tired and do everything else in between. I thought how wonderful it would be if I could listen to my own body just like them.

Emulate them I did the past week. I have been seeking my favourite spot to recuperate - my bed. I have been taking long naps in the afternoon. Those extended siestas were refreshing. I woke up with a slightly less dull mind and more vigour to carry me through to dinner for my next energy boost. The only drawback is that I have very little time for anything else.

In time, I hope my body will adapt better to Detrusitol and the diet. The side effects have become less apparent. I am slowly getting used to taking less meat and more meals. I am performing my intermittent catheterisation diligently and according to schedule. I have done my part. That is all I can do. The rest, I leave to God’s Providence.

This is the reason why I have not started my diet log. The Chinese New Year is the only time I cook the Hou Si Fatt Choy (Braised Dried Oysters with Black Moss). Most of the ingredients used were probably those that I should either avoid or eat very little of. Today is the last instance I am eating this dish. I had them for lunch and dinner. Each mouthful was savoured to the fullest - the taste and the aroma conscientiously saved in my memory. From tomorrow onwards, my food will be bland. That will buy my kidneys more time. That I willingly do to sustain my renal health.

The fish maw soup is another of my favourite festive cuisine. I have modified the recipe to suit my current dietary needs. Mum had bought this piece of fish maw two years ago. I have been breaking it into smaller pieces to cook soups over the months. I do not know if fish maw is something I can indulge in too. Perhaps, when the time comes to cook the last portion, I will enjoy it unhurriedly like I did the Hou Si Fatt Choy.

Hou Si Fatt Choy (Braised Dried Oysters with Black Moss)

Ingredients:
8 dried oysters, soak in 1� cup warm water for 1 hour
38 g black moss, soak in 1 cup warm water for 30 minutes and drain
300g roasted pork, cut into 1 cm thick portions
6 shitake mushrooms, soak in enough water to cover and leave overnight

2 tbsp oyster sauce
1 tsp thick soy sauce
1/2 tsp sugar
1 tsp corn flour
1 cup water
a dash of sesame seed oil

Heat oil and saute garlic, shallots and ginger until fragrant. Add oyster and fry for another 1 minute. Add shitake mushrooms and roasted pork and stir fry for another minute. Add the sauces and water, 1 cup each of the water the oysters and mushrooms were soaked in and let simmer for about 30 minutes. If the gravy becomes too thick, add water. Add the black moss and simmer for another 10 minutes before turning off heat. Serve with rice.

I forgot to buy Chinese cabbage and it was not added. The cabbage would have made the gravy tastier.