Yesterday we had to make the horrible decision as to whether MIL should be resuscitated or not in the event of her dying, something you have to do these days. Had to do it with FIL earlier this year. Anyone else been thru this?
Yes I'm afraid I have had experience of this and it's not plesant at all, but you can only make the best decision you can taking into account current and projected ongoing quality of life of the person you are making the decision for.
Be aware that if you ever see DNA on anyones medical records it stands for ''Do Not Resuscitate'' and it's not always a decision that Doctor's aks the next of kin to make but make it themselves at times.
During the terrrible ongoing medical issues we had last year with my Father and from Feb to June his many different stays in various hospitals in the SE during this period it was a decision I had to make. There is another elder sister also around but when it comes to the 'nasty' stuff she wants me to make the call.
However when, during his last visit into hospital in Sept 07, which I tried to avoid but couldn't because he needed pain medication that only the hospital not the care home could dispense I came up against what I can only term as an even worse situation which nearly broke me - not meaning to sound pathetic but it was awful.
Bluntly Dad was in the last stages of dying and although literally in a comma his brain was still sending nasty freeky signals to his body causing him to have awful seziures which shook his whole body and broke your heart to stand by and watch. Through the skills of medical knowledge they sustained this state of very unhappy affairs for three days and then I was asked to meet with the Chief Consultant of the ward to discuss Dad's ongoing treatment.
The CC advised me that because Dad was now not able to take fluids or food orally he wanted to operate on him to place a feeding tube down his throat into his stomach which would then extend at a stoma in his stomach through which they could 'nourish' him and sustain his life.
There are a lot of personal promises I made to my Dad in that year which I don't want to dsicuss but one of the main ones was that I had promised him, after the transfer to the nursing home in June 07, that I would
never allow him to be operated on EVER AGAIN and that he wouldn't die in hospital - these were made because he was terrified of being 'butchered' again.
So I told the CC that no I refused that suggestion and that all the family now wanted, if the hospital could do nothing at all else to help Dad, was to return him as soon as possible to the nursing home (where Mum would also be able to be with him during what were obviously going to be his last few days) with the correct pain relief medication please and we would take it from thereon in.
The CC then accussed me of asking him to perform
Euthanasia on my Father and eventually it turned into a full scale shouting match between him and me which he ended by telling me that he was then going to seek
legal advice from the hospital lawyers and he would
fight me and
prevent me from refusing Dad his suggested treatment. He even went as far as to tell me he felt I was a threat to Dad and he would seek to not allow me to be with Dad whilst he was in hospital.
I told him that I had absolutely no intention of leaving Dad's side whatever he thought and that if I was able to prove that Dad could take food and water orally he had absolutely no medical right to perform the operation without my consent as Dad obviously wasn't able to give his own.
The nursing staff were absolutely BRILLANT and they helped me get the Speech Therapist up that day and somehow (I think becuse I explained to Dad how important it really was) between her and I we managed to get him to take a few sips of water and mixed in nutrients that day.
I normally stayed 24 hours of the day at the hospital but because (and yes I do blame myself here) I was so shattered by the experience, also needed to go and visit Mum at the nursing home and felt the immediate operation crisis had been removed, I went home and sat and downed a few glasses or wine that evening.
At sometime around one am. the next morning one of the nursing staff called to say that Dad had died. She was in tears herslef because she said she'd checked on him only 10 minutes before and he'd mumbled kind of that he was fine to her and then when she popped her head back around he had died.
I immediately went back to the hospital and when I saw Dad I knew I had done the right thing in fighting the CC because although I couldn't keep my promise to him that he wouldn't die in hospital he hadnt had to go through a further serious operation that would have potentially killed him on the operating table.
I know he hadn't died in a terrified state becuase when I got there he looked peaceful (face and bodily) and the nurses aren't allowed to move the persons body in any way until the Registrar on call has been to certify death - which occured about 10 minutes after I had returned there to be with him.
Did I do anything further about the CC - ie: make a formal complaint or anything similar. No to be honest I didn't because what would the point of that have been. However I did speak to various other doctor's who over the 5 years of ongoing visits with Dad had become almost like friends to the family (in fact his major doctor came to the funeral which I thought was very nice of him) and explained ALL the facts and they were horrified. They all said that if it had come to the CC trying to legally overule me they would have one and all backed us against him.
I didn't really mean to type such a long and deeply personal missive because as you can probably appreciate it is a very raw subject still for me - however it should be taken as a warning experience and is one I have learned from myself.
Document down what 'you' want in such instances before it's too late - I certainly have as I don't want my family having to
perhaps go through the same shit I did.
Finishing on a lighter note -
hopefully - I dont think I will have to because BM has kindly offerred and oftens repeats to me and loca friends that at the first sign of gaganess it's a pillow over the face for me
