The Terri Schiavo case hits home with this chick

Fuckin� Diaryland. How could you do this to me again?

I�ve actually managed quite well without my internet version of crack. It was tough on Friday, but just went over to Flickr which is my second favorite website now. (Check out the link on the side. Mickey and I went for a walk in the woods behind the house yesterday and took some great pictures. Next time, however, I�m going alone. I think it would be easier to take pics without hearing, �I want to go home now, Mommy, I want to go home�Mommy, I want to go home now, I want to go home now, Mommy�MOMMY I WANT TO GO HOME� because, yes, he�s a persistent little fucker).

Also, without dland, I was able to read up on the Terri Schiavo case, which is kind of a touchy subject with me. Automatically I think of my mom because she was in a similar condition and it brings up all kind of issues for me. Fortunately, after three years of living like that, my mom got pneumonia and passed away. I couldn�t imagine having to watch her for 15 years like that.

But this whole case has me thinking about her and it occurs to me that I don�t know how my mom was fed when she was sick. She certainly didn�t eat. Maybe she had a feeding tube? I don�t know. I�ll have to ask my dad, but I�m not going to call him right now. �Hey, Dad, sorry to wake you up at 6:30 am, but can you tell me, when my mom was sick, how did they feed her?�. I know what he�d say to that, �Oh, I see you�ve been following the Terri Schiavo case�.

So, my reaction to this case initially was, WTF? The Governor of Florida, now fucking Congress is stepping in? Talk about the government in your bedroom. Automatically I sided with the husband, like a knee jerk reaction. But I hate to just take sides without doing my research, especially on a subject that hits so close to home, so I did. I went to Terri�s website (too lazy to link, google her name and it�s one of the first that comes up), I read up on what Michael Schiavo has to say about it and ya know what? I�m still on his side.

I know he has another girlfriend. Terri was in her state for 6 or 7 years before he got together with her. His kids have been born in the last five years. The guy is human, not a saint. Terri is not coming out of it, he�s not fooling himself. But he�s still married to her, he could have easily divorced her and washed his hands of the whole situation. Instead, he�s provided for her care with the settlement they won in 1992 (which is almost gone, btw, he doesn�t stand to gain much monetarily after she passes away, IF she does), and he�s been fighting this battle, with a lawyer, for years. I imagine that�s cost a nickel or two.

He�s been offered a lot of money to give up his guardianship of her. Her parents have asked him to sign her over to them. He won�t. He believes that Terri would not have wanted to live like this. He believes that Terri�s parents would do anything to keep her alive including put her on a ventilator and remove limbs if they have to. He just can�t let them do that.

I can kinda understand why her parents would want her alive, kind of. That�s their little girl. And they�re all religious and �pro-life�. *gag* (Excuse me). But what kind of life is that? Who wants to live like that? And I find it kind of fishy that the doctors that are appointed by the courts, and the ones Michael Schiavo has hired, all say there�s no hope for a recovery, that she is in a persistent vegetative state (PVS), but the doctors hired by her parents all say there is hope for recovery, that she�s not in a PVS. Michael insists they are basing their conclusions from the videos of her, and they haven�t actually examined her in person.

Like I said earlier, this case really hits home for me. Fortunately, Terri Schiavo has no children, but my mom did. I can�t tell you how much seeing my mom live like that just killed me.

My mom started to get sick in 1978. She was in and out of the hospital, trying to find out what was wrong with her. I didn�t know how bad it was at first. She retired from her job as a nurse (retired, she did not just quit, she retired due to her illness), so she knew it was going to be bad. All I knew was my mom was going to be home all the time! Yey! Of course, this time period is really fuzzy for me, and I don�t quite remember everything as well as I should.

December 3, 1978. I remember this day vividly. I was 8 years old and in the third grade. I came home from school that afternoon and my grandmother�s car was in the driveway. I was excited, because I loved my Memere and was so happy she came to see me. When I got in the house, however, I knew something was wrong. My mom wasn�t there. My grandmother said my mom had gone to the hospital and she would be taking care of me that day.

What I found out later (a lot later, not that day but a few weeks or months later) was that my older brother, who was 16 at the time, had come home from school and found my mom laying unconscious on the floor. She was taken to the hospital.

She never came home again. She was never the same again.

That Christmas, she was still able to talk. Within the next few months, however, her condition deteriorated quickly. Soon, she was moved from the hospital to a nursing home. I�d guess she was in a PVS within six months.

My mom was alive, but she couldn�t talk to me. She couldn�t look at me. She couldn�t move. And that was devastating for me. I hated going to see her. I hated seeing my mom like that. It was like she was already dead, but she wasn�t. I had to deal with her condition as a loss, the loss of my mom.

But, I always had hope that they�d cure her. Someday, I�d come home from school and she�d be in the kitchen, making me cookies or something. I believed this because it was all I had.

Then, December 23, 1981, I�d slept at my grandparents house. I woke up in the morning and went downstairs to watch tv. My grandmother came over to me and said (exact words), �I was going to wait to have your father tell you this, but I�ll tell you now. Your mother died last night�. And I was in instant acceptance at that point. I was 11 years old, and I knew that was it. She was never coming home. All those dreams I had about coming home and seeing her there, that was never going to happen. She was gone. Merry Fucking Christmas.

And, ya know, it was like she died twice. She died the first time when she got into her condition, and the second time when she actually died. And it sucked ass big time. And I sit here, 23 years later, fighting tears like crazy (kids are here). One of my biggest fears in life is to have my kids go through that. Actually, my biggest fear is me dying on them, but I�d rather die on them once, than to live like that.

Terri Schiavo�s mistake was not having a Living Will. But, how many people really do? I don�t, although I�ve been looking into it the past few days. My husband knows that I don�t want to be kept alive like that. My dad does, too. But, I should put something in writing. I found a few legal websites where you can zip one up for like $15, but I�m thinking I�m going to do something with a lawyer around here so I know it�ll be legally binding in my state. If I�m a vegetable, if I�m to depend on any machines to keep me a live, if I�m not even conscious, if there�s no hope for recovery, if I can�t even eat and a feeding tube is keeping me alive, I don�t want to be alive. I don�t want my kids to go through that. More selfishly, I don�t want to go through that. Pull the plug, pull the tube, do what you gotta do, just let me go.

And that�s all I have to say about that.

Happy Sunday!

Listening to: The kids playing. And "Tiny Planets".

Currently reading: "Switcheroo" Olivia Goldsmith

Thinking about: You know.