It’s been a while since I have shared anything. Probably partly out of depression and also because I’m having a hard time conveying the thoughts I’m about to write. I’ve been encouraged by many to put what I’ve been writing in a booklet form. When I do, I may have to find a better way to say what I’m about to say. Your feedback will be very helpful in that regard.
After three times in the hospital, the last time for 25 days, I could see that the chances of Carol coming back to anything close to her normal life was very slight. The doctor was willing to continue treatment. He was gracious to let me know that whatever decision I make I’d have to live with it the rest of my life, and therefore I must have peace in what I do. But the fact was that Carol was so weakened that she wasn’t communicating in a meaningful way. We had started feeding her through a peg tube (a direct line into the stomach to provide nourishment) a few days before, but in my opinion, that should have been done two weeks earlier when there might have been the possibility of strengthening her. But now her body was not responding in a meaningful way.
Frankly, two weeks before she had said to me, “That’s enough, no more.” I now realize that she was saying that she didn’t want any more sustaining treatment.
I made the hard decision to ask the doctor to make provision for me to bring her home under hospice. When we brought Carol home from the hospital, I was still suffering from the shock of the fact that I was bringing her home to die.
It was obvious very quickly that pneumonia was setting back into her lungs. More antibiotics would only delay the inevitable. For the first several days, I was still feeding her through the peg tube. The thought of withdrawing food from her seemed inhumane. In my mind that would mean I was starving her to death. You would think by this time in my life, I would have understood that biologically that is not what I would be doing. It’s not like when you and I haven’t eaten for six hours and we feel we have to eat something because as we say,
“we are starving.” No, in her state, her body was trying to shut down.
I believe the Lord gave me an insight that I hope will be helpful to others who find themselves in this same position. I heard the Lord say (in my spirit, not audible), “Why aren’t you cooperating with me. I’m trying to bring my little girl home and you are sustaining her body and delaying my work.” (Now, I know that the sovereign God could have taken Carol home anytime without my help. And He could have taken Carol home even though I might be interfering. But God has chosen many time to do His will in conjunction with our cooperation.)
Then I heard God Say, “This modern medicine is good when it allows people to live longer, but it is bad when it prevents people for dying when it’s their time. In the old days, people were allowed to fall asleep in the Lord. And that’s what I want for Carol.”
I withdrew the nourishment with full assurance that what I was doing was actually the humane thing to do. This was hard, but it was right. It didn’t feel right then and it doesn’t feel right now, but I know it was the right thing to do.
I’m not saying that others in this situation should follow my decision. I’m just telling you what I did and why. Everything about it comes back at times to distress me, to disturb my thinking and to challenge my actions. But deep in my soul, I can live with my decisions.
It is my prayer that the thought of “cooperating with God” can help some who are in the situation I was in. If it does, then I have accomplished the intent of this writing.
