Do ya remember the scene during the Viet Nam war protest segment of the movie, when Forrest spoke to the masses in front of the Washington Monument? If you recall, a hush fell over the crowd, the sound system went south and ol’ Forrest just kept talkin’ bout what it was that made him feel the way he did about war...and nobody heard a word he said.
I’ve often wondered what truth I’d relate if given the opportunity to speak my peace in a time where there was none. The following internet exchange between me and another NDEr suggests my sentiments.
Strangely enough, the topic was euthanasia...”and that’s all I have to say about that.”
On 1/24/02 1:46 PM, John wrote:
My response to an essentially sad and so often frightening topic is that a person would need to be pretty fit to carry out this list of instructions in toto. I do not wish to be flippant, since virtually every family encounters this problem of extreme pain and distress somewhere along the line. I have sat up all night, accompanied by doctors, witnessing the final hours of various people, and have been told that, despite all the apparent suffering, the patient's perceptions differ fundamentally from what we might expect them to be. Even the statement that I've just written may be provocative – I realize that - but what if the sufferer is experiencing OBEs/NDEs in some kind of alleviating process? My interest in further discussion of this is genuine and open to modification.
Date: Fri, 25 Jan 2002 07:46:39 -0400
Subject: Re: [nde] HOW CAN I KILL MYSELF
Not unlike you, I also have been down this road and the indecisiveness cuts like a knife. I've watched a couple of my nearest and dearest Heart Brothers go down---compliments of the physiological and psychological aftermath of that nifty little war in Viet Nam---and I angst...and I railed...and wept with "what to do?"..."what's the right thing?"
One of these Dear Guys took his own life because he couldn't hold any more pain and it just got to be too much. I struggled with his choice, yet it wasn't mine to make; it was his...and, eventually, I arrived at a perspective resulting in a "who am I to judge what was right or wrong for him."
The other, who was tainted with Agent Orange poisoning which eventually resulted in a malignant brain tumor some 20 years later, held on thru 6 months of some of the most horrendous agony I've ever witnessed. He was allergic to morphine, btw, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to imagine what it musta been like as the melon size tumor kept expanding. His decision was to hold on and ride, as best he could, the train all the way thru. There came a point---somewhere in the neighborhood of the eighth hour of his twelve hour death rattle---when I was left alone in the room with him. I gently picked up a pillow and with all the Love that I Know, made the decision I would make the decision, in toto, for him. And it was tough...tougher than most anything I'd ever known...and, had his wife not come back to the room, I just mighta gone thru with it.
I've come to the conclusion, "there ain't no lines, on the front line"...and this topic is about as front line as it gets. Not unlike you, Silent Companion, my interest in further discussion of this topic is genuine and open for modification. Currently, though, I tend to respect the Sanctity of Individual Choice.
In Honor of Good Friends
"The Boyz 1968"