“Suppose that Mr. Kramer had himself discharged,” Jobran asked, thoughtfully. “He would obviously have the ability to take his own life then. What’s the difference?”
“The difference is, while people obviously have the ability to take their own lives in their own homes, we don’t allow them to use a doctor or our hospital as a means of accomplishing it!” He said to Jobran, passionately, “Such actions run contrary to the entire nature of medicine; we are trained to save life, not to end it. Would you want it to simply be up to a doctor that was assigned to you by a hospital as to whether he wanted to ‘take the easy way out,’ rather than enter you into an expensive treatment program, particularly for elderly or disabled patients? Would you want this doctor to be the one who determines whether or not your life ‘has value’?”
“So what, then?” Jobran asked. “People like Mr. Kramer are just out of luck, and are condemned to suffer needlessly?”
Dr. Secrist was about to reply, but then stopped himself. He appeared to think for a moment, then said, “Look, Mr. Winter: I’m not unsympathetic to the situation of people such as Mr. Kramer; I’m well aware of his wishes—he’s badgered me about it every time I’ve seen him for the past two months. Perhaps voluntary suicide by injection should be legal; and perhaps even certain kinds of nonvoluntary suicide—the so-called ‘mercy killings’ that are chosen by the patient’s loved ones—should be legal. But at this point in time, they are illegal, and the attempts to have them legalized in California failed miserably. You can have a Living Will, you can have a health care proxy assigned by Durable Power of Attorney, but you can’t choose to have yourself actively killed, even though it is voluntary.” Then he added, “And quite frankly, I think that’s really for the best: Once you’ve allowed voluntary euthanasia, how do you draw the line between it and involuntary euthanasia? If you allow the death of a person with terminal cancer, then why not a person with Down’s Syndrome? Or mental retardation? Or blindness, deafness, or quadriplegia? And then why not allow it for cases where it is simply creating financial hardship, or because you feel that the medical resources would be better used elsewhere?” He shook his head vigorously. “No, that path leads down a slippery slope to Nazi Germany’s program to exterminate those people they deemed ‘unfit.’”
“Isn’t anyone trying to pass laws that are, well, less extreme than that?” Jobran asked.
“Yes, there are groups such as the Hemlock Society that are trying to get various forms of euthanasia legalized. They prefer the term ‘self-deliverance’ to ‘suicide,’ since the term ‘suicide’ is associated with irrational behavior.” He shrugged his shoulders, and said, “And who knows? Maybe one day such initiatives will pass. Suicide was not only legal, but was in some instances looked upon as a noble and honorable act by the Greeks and Romans. The early Christians in some cases actively sought martyrdom—which is virtually tantamount to committing suicide—which they felt would lead to their eternal blessedness. Suicide is more ‘relative’ and less absolute than most religious people believe. Although virtually every religion condemns suicide, they do allow it in a secondary sense, such as if you don’t take care of yourself, overeat or have an unbalanced diet full of fats and cholesterol; there’s no church that refuses you Communion because you had too many doughnuts that morning. Similarly, you can join a hazardous profession such as firefighter, soldier, or police officer, whose chances of being killed are far greater than the average person; religions don’t prohibit you from joining a dangerous profession. In fact, most religions think that the soldier charging the enemy, or the firefighter running into a burning building is heroic rather than suicidal; whereas for all we know, the person may only be willing to commit the deed of heroism because he or she no longer wants to live.”
“So there are no circumstances in which you would allow assisted suicide, or active euthanasia, or whatever you want to call it, for people in Mr. Kramer’s situation?” Jobran asked.
“I might support legislation favoring euthanasia if they had proper controls in place, to ensure that we weren’t just taking the life of someone who was going through a period of considerable pain, but one that will eventually pass.” Then with a grim expression, he continued, “But even the Hemlock Society’s own experience should make them aware of some of the problems with a legislative ‘solution.’ Their former President, Derek Humphry—author of the bestseller Final Exit, which gave you exhaustive details about how to take your own life— wrote his first book Jean’s Way as a moving story of how he helped his first wife commit suicide. But he hasn’t written a book about the suicide of his second wife Ann, who took her own life after she contracted cancer, and blamed him for forcing her into it. She accused him of desertion, abandonment, and harrassment of her, in her suicide note.”
Jobran was out of arguments. Dr. Secrist held up his hand, and said, “This really isn’t your job, as a hospice volunteer, to respond to such questions from patients. Doctors, theologians, philosophers and politicians have been debating these questions for thousands of years, and they’re still far from resolved.” Putting his hand on Jobran’s shoulder, he said, “In the future, just go ahead and listen to what the patient has to say, but don’t try and answer all their questions; that’s not what you’re here for.” He glanced at his watch, and said, “Look, I need to take a break; would you like to go out on the patio for a few minutes, and continue the conversation?”
“That would be great,” Jobran said, and the doctor led the way to a private outside lounge for hospital personnel. Jobran was shocked when he saw Dr. Secrist pull a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and light one.
“It seems to strange to me, to see a doctor smoking,” Jobran said.
Taking a deep drag, then breathing out the smoke, he replied, “Yep; I smoke, drink, and swear; years ago, I even used to dance and play cards. I try and commit as many of the Seven Deadly Sins as possible.”
“I take it that you don’t have any religious beliefs?”
The doctor shrugged, and said, “I used to be an evangelical Christian.” He took another drag on his cigarette, and said, “‘Used to be’ is the operative term; after 8 years of studying biology in college and Med School, I’ve since become a rather complete materialist.”
Jobran was very interested now, and asked, “Did science cause you to somehow lose your faith?”
The doctor shook his head, and said, “Nothing so dramatic as all that. It was more like a matter that I just came to realize that the nice world they told me about in Sunday school wasn’t all that nice.”
Jobran asked, “What, if anything, do you have faith in, or hope for? For example, what do you expect—or hope—for science to eventually be able to achieve?”
The doctor thought for a moment, then said, “‘Faith’ is not a big word on my agenda, but to the extent that I have anything anymore resembling ‘faith’ at all, I would have to say that I just have faith in science.”
“Faith in science to do what?”
Excitement coming into his voice, he said, “Personally, I love to read about all of the latest research of fields such as Cryonics, brain transplants, and more likely, the possibility of the reconstitution of a person through their DNA—that subject was fictionally treated in the movie Jurassic Park. If we could electronically copy the memory in a person’s brain, and transfer it into a newly-reconstituted human body, that would be the goal. I think these avenues of research are the only possibilities for any sort of significant extension of life, and would be taking our first step towards the creation of ‘eternal life.’ The most promising field, right now, is that of artificial intelligence: the notion that since our memories are recorded in our minds physically, we could actually copy and download them to a computer, and they—along with our unique personalities—could be preserved forever, for all practical purposes.”
“So you don’t actually believe in eternal life? Or the immo
rtality of the soul?”
“No,” the doctor said, shaking his head emphatically. “Not any longer.”
“Would you be so interested in coming back to life, if it were possible?” Jobran asked. “If so, why?”
The doctor scratched his head, took another drag on his cigarette and said, “I guess I’d be interested, just for the possibility of knowing more; my eternal fascination is just in learning more and more. That’s why medicine is such a fascinating field for me; there’s always new information, and new discoveries.” He took another drag on his cigarette, and said, “But to me, life doesn’t have to be eternal in order to be worthwhile. I think that the quest of eternally searching, eternally learning, is what my idea of a ‘God’ would be like.”
With earnestness, Jobran asked, “Do you ever feel like you are playing God,’ when you are treating a person?”
The doctor snorted, and said, “Hardly—all my experiences just tend to make me realize how very little we can really control in the life process.”
“Do you think it’s true that people can die when they ‘lose their will to live’?” Jobran asked.
The doctor nodded and said, “Oh, definitely. Just as one’s mental attitude is a cardinal factor in the healing process, so one’s mental attitude is critical in speeding up the dying process. There are tons of cases of people suddenly dying right after the death of a beloved spouse, or after a forced retirement from a job that meant everything to them. For such people, life without their life partner or job isn’t truly ‘living.’”
“You said that you were a complete materialist,” Jobran said. “Does that mean that everything is just ‘mechanical’ to you, and that nothing about life ever fills you with awe, or wonder?”
The doctor looked thoughtful, then glanced away, as he said, “I guess…I’ve never really lost that sense of wonder; even after I abandoned my religious beliefs. It seems to me incredibly amazing that we can know as much about the human being as we do, for example.”
Jobran hesitated a moment before asking tentatively, “Do you ever have any kind of sense of anything that…well, transcends ordinary reality?”
The doctor ground out his cigarette, then glanced around before replying in a conspiratorial tone, “I don’t ‘dwell’ on such experiences, but…yes, I occasionally have the sense of something greater than myself; it’s almost as it I’m being ‘watched’ as I work.”
Jobran was genuinely excited, now, and asked, “And you don’t think that this might be the presence or mind of God, or something like that?”
The doctor shrugged, and said in a flat tone, “No, not really. I think that there are purely psychological reasons for my feeling that way.” He glanced at his watch, and began to look uncomfortable.
Genuinely surprised, Jobran asked, “And that’s all there is to it? You’ve never been interested in pursuing that avenue of your experience—perhaps with the same passion that you applied to your medical studies?”
Curtly, the doctor replied, “Keeping up on the latest medical research is more than time-consuming enough for me. And besides, I…well, those other areas just don’t interest me, any longer. You’ll excuse me,” and he exited hastily.
As he rose from his chair to leave the patio, Jobran reflected that, “It’s funny how no matter how intelligent a person is, they always seem to have at least one area—frequently religion—where they aren’t really amenable to rational discussion.”
* * *
Jobran swung by the Nurse’s Station on his way to the elevator.
“Hey; I thought you’d left,” Sandra said.
“Had a long conversation with Dr. Secrist about Mr. Kramer,” Jobran replied. “And about euthanasia.”
Sandra wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re not in favor of euthanasia, are you?” she asked, dubiously.
“I don’t know; I frankly hadn’t thought too much about it until recently,” Jobran said. “But in cases like Mr. Kramer’s, where his life is just no longer worth living to himself, I can certainly see some validity to the notion. I mean, it we don’t have autonomy over our own lives, how can we call ourselves ‘free’?”
Sandra looked disapprovingly at Jobran. Then, glancing quickly all around her to make sure that no one could overhear, she replied, “Personally, I think that killing ourselves is always wrong, because we aren’t our own creators: God created us for his own pleasure, and it is up to Him to determine when our lives should end; we need to live in accord with God’s plan, not ours. Since all of us have immortal souls, taking our own lives is actually transgressing on God’s will.”
Jobran replied, “But couldn’t all modern medicine be viewed as transgressing the ‘will of God’? Many of the treatments we use routinely today would have been considered almost miraculous only a few generations ago. Techniques like Hip replacements, knee reconstruction, artificial hearts, blood transfusions, skin grafts, and the like, although they all utilize the body’s marvelous recuperative powers, they’re certainly ‘unnatural’ techniques, and were only devised through the mind and inventiveness of man.”
“Which God gave to us, as well,” Sandra replied quickly. “I think that God wants us to utilize our minds to the fullest capacity; that’s why he gave our minds to us.”
“But why would God want to make an individual suffer like Mr. Kramer is suffering? It all seems so pointless.” Jobran replied, anxiously.
Almost in a whisper, she said, “Suffering does have value!” She glanced around again, quickly.
“You’re a Catholic, aren’t you?” Jobran asked, with a smile.
“Sure,” she said, returning the smile. “What are you?”
“I’m a Catholic, too,” he replied. Then, after a pause, he said, “Well, ostensibly. In terms of my practice, such as going to Mass, taking my RCIA classes, and such.” He shook his head sighed, and said, “I have to admit that it’s far from instinctual for me, at this point. It seems to me that both rationality and humanity point to the direction of allowing euthanasia, but the religious arguments are a whole other matter.”
In a serious tone, Sandra said, “As a Catholic, you need to know that the Pope has absolutely forbid Catholics to support euthanasia.” Gravely, she added, “But really, Jobe, suffering can have great spiritual value for a person. All of the great saints, from the New Testament onward, have said that it is during their times of testing that they achieved their greatest spiritual growth.”
“Unfortunately, that’s an argument that won’t work for everyone,” Jobran said. Then he added with a rueful smile, “Including Dr. Secrist…and Mr. Kramer.”
* * *
When Jobran returned for his volunteer shift the next day, he was informed that Mr. Kramer had suddenly passed away the preceding evening, from an apparent bad reaction to his medication.
And each time that Jobran passed Dr. Secrist in the hall, he wondered…but couldn’t bring himself to ask…
35
BABY KILLERS
The usual entrance that Jobran took to enter the hospital for his volunteer shift at the hospice was closed (“Due to Construction”), so he headed around to the next available entrance.
From a distance, he heard a small commotion up ahead, and looked and saw several people carrying placards. Probably the telephone operators; I’d heard that they were holding a strike vote soon.
However, upon approaching the door, Jobran was accosted by a thirtyish man with thinning blond hair and thick wire-rimmed glasses.
“Sir, for the love of God, please don’t cross this picket line. Don’t help them kill more babies,” the man said. (Jobran realized that since he was wearing his security badge with photo, the man probably assumed that worked there—and in this part of the hospital.) Jobran noticed the man’s sign, which read in bold red letters, “MURDER, INC.” He looked at the other few people holding signs, w
hich read, “THESE ARE THE TRUE BABY KILLERS,” “BE SURE THY SINS WILL FIND YOU OUT,” and “VENGEANCE IS MINE SAITH THE LORD.” There were three adults and one child altogether. Kind of a motley crew, Jobran thought. When he turned to look back at the man who spoke to him, the man (with a grim expression on his face) flipped his sign around, and Jobran saw that it has a picture of several bloody fetuses sitting in what appeared to be a trash can. The sight sickened Jobran’s stomach, and he quickly turned to walk away, when the man stopped him again.
“How can you go in to do your evil work? Have you no conscience? Don’t you know that they’re going to kill more than twenty babies in there today?” he said, grasping Jobran’s arm.
Jobran shook his head, and said, “I’m just a volunteer in the hospice. I don’t have anything to do with abortions.” He gently removed the man’s grasping hand from his arm, and said, “Besides, I’m a Catholic.”
The man’s face brightened, and he said, “Then you should be joining us on the picket lines, rather than supporting a hospital that is practicing infanticide on a daily basis. Here, take my sign…” and he extended the sign with the bloody photographs to Jobran, who shook his head.
Beyond Heaven and Earth Page 78