Extraordinary Measures

Another member of our Alamo family passed away this week. It has been a rough few weeks at my workplace. A well liked, long time employee went to see his doctor only a few months ago for a shoulder problem. An MRI revealed tumors in his shoulder and a full body scan discovered that cancer had spread to other parts of his body including his spine and brain.

He opted for surgery to remove at least one of the tumors. While he was in the hospital, he suffered a stroke. He lost so much weight that the doctors had to force-feed him to bring his weight back up so that they could start him on a course of chemotherapy and radiation. It was too late and the treatments did not help. Last week, unable to breathe, he was placed on a ventilator and this Sunday his family pulled the plug and allowed him to pass away. The cancer took him so quickly and we mourn his loss.

There is no way I could second guess his mindset or his doctor’s, having been diagnosed with such a devastating illness moving at such a rapid pace. Modern medicine can work miracles and many kinds of cancer can be treated very successfully. People survive their cancer and go on to live healthy, productive lives. However, seeing all the extraordinary efforts that he was put through, it made me think what I would choose to do, if I were in his place. It is a sobering thought. Would I choose a very slim hope at best, knowing that my life would be hell, or would I surrender to the overwhelming odds and try to pass from this world as peacefully and pain free as possible?

There is a lot to be said for modern medicine and fighting the good fight right up to the very end for any kind of a hope, but where does quality of life and dignity come into the equation? The cynic in me wonders if such measures would even have been considered if the patient had no insurance and no family. When do heroic measures to save a life become too much? When do they cross over that line and violate a physician’s Hippocratic Oath of “first, do no harm?”

What a treacherous tightrope we ask our modern medicine men and women to walk these days. In olden days, there were no such options and choices for treatment other than making the patient as comfortable as possible. Once, a patient could expect to pass peacefully in his own bed, surrounded by his friends and family, if he was so blessed. Today’s medical protocols dictate that patients be poked, prodded, poisoned and radiated almost to the point of death in the hope of saving their lives. Today, they often pass away in sterile hospital rooms surrounded by beeping equipment and overworked hospital staff. I wonder if someday future medical schools will look upon our chemotherapy and radiation treatments the way they now view bleeding a patient of his “bad humor” in the 1800’s.

At what point do we begin to treat the patient...instead of his disease?

We will miss you Bruce. Blessings to you, my friend, for a peaceful passing.

FOOD for THOUGHT...