DO NOT GO GENIAL INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT --- DOCTOR-ASSISTED SUICIDE
B. Elwin Sherman
February 24, 2006
Lately, it seems we’re all in a big hurry to jump ship.
It’s all around us now, the search for ways to improve our standard of dying. We’re fast-approaching the land of diminishing returns. Maybe if we focused a bit more on ways to live with humor and grace, we’d be less concerned about how to die with dignity. The former is the only time-tested proving ground for the latter, anyway.
It’s enough to put Dylan Thomas off his feed:
Doctor-assisted suicide.
Give me five good reasons and one bad excuse,” my mother used to say whenever I was caught in flagrante delicto or if I wanted any extracurricular treat, “then maybe we’ll talk about it.”
Okay, Ma. You helped set me on this path, now sit back and enjoy the tour. Here they are: Five Good Reasons And One Bad Excuse Why Doctor-Assisted Suicide Is A Good Or Bad Idea:
5. NEW HUMOR
All the jokes will need a re-write. Take the old chestnut: “The operation was a failure, but the patient lived.” Or: What’s the difference between a doctor and a lawyer? “Lawyers rob you, but doctors rob you and save you, too.” Breathes new life into ‘em.
Thus far, a physician’s act of commission or omission that could be linked to the cause of a patient’s demise has been at worst negligent and at best unforeseeable, and for reason number four, it should stay that way.
4. LITIGATION
I can see the first lawsuit now: “DYING MAN SUES DOCTOR IN LANDMARK WRONGFUL LIFE CASE.” Here’s an excerpt from the testimony:
“So, doctor, you then provided the plaintiff with a lethal dose of drugs, correct?”
Yes, but he didn’t strictly follow my instructions.”
Are you saying the plaintiff is still alive through no fault of yours?”
Yes. I told him to take all the pills the usual way. But, he only took two, went to bed and called me in the morning.”
3. THE HIPPOCRATIC OATH
It currently reads: “I will give no deadly medicine to anyone if asked, nor suggest any such counsel.” Obviously, this doesn’t jive with handing one’s patient a pharmaceutical shotgun. It will not only need to be revoked, but should have a catchy new moniker.
We could call it: “The Decease And Desist Decree.” It would read, in part:
“I will supply the rope to those at the end of theirs. And, as an adjunctive therapy for their family, friends and the general public, I will prescribe B. Elwin Sherman's TOOLKIT IN PARADISE to all who come to me seeking to buy the farm, thus insuring they and others will be laughing as the heavenly deed is purchased,” for instance.
(Hey, if PBS can sneak the Ziplock dancing finger in between programs under the guise of being a “corporate sponsor” I can sell a little soap between quips)
2. METHODOLOGY AND PRACTICE
All the terminology I’ve seen, including the Model State Act drafted in Boston by a team of doctors, lawyers, academics and Hemlock Society members, uses the term: “medical means” of suicide.
Careful, I think we need some specifics here, or we’ll have endocrinologists handing out glucose overdoses to their diabetic patients. Before you know it, sugar will become a controlled substance and the rest of us will need prescriptions for fudge brownies.
Ben & Jerry would be outcast as narcotic kingpins.
And, unless we want asthmatic sufferers being told by their internists to “just lie down in the hayloft,” we’d better set some guidelines.
1. ADVERTISING
Brad Wieners writes in the San Francisco Bay Guardian: “Advertising believes steadfastly in immortality. It shows little or no death. It tells you what it thinks you want to hear, never what it thinks you don’t want to hear, but should. Art does.”
It follows, that when Death comes to Madison Avenue as a better mousetrap, and the grey flannel folks hook-up with Parke Lilly, (already a built-in killer subtlety) the pseudo art nouveau will emerge. Trust me on this.
An animated, computer-enhanced Whistler’s Mother will rise from her rocker and reach for her Bible and a bottle of ... Dylenol? Gotrin? Banacin? Termi-Tabs? Ghost-Caps?
And, picture this: Wide-angle view of The Sistine Chapel. Camera pans up to The Creation Of Adam, Michaelangelo’s signature rendition of the birth of Man. And, there, in the outstretched hand of God, as it reaches to bring life to A-Number One himself, a bottle of Supremitol (extra-strength, of course) is tenderly offered.
It goes without saying that Handel’s Messiah, swelling in the background, will reach fortissimo proportions when the A-man takes the sacred surfeit. Then, cue announcer: “New life is just a pass away. Supremitol: from the makers of---”
ONE BAD EXCUSE
As prescribing life-ending methods for their terminal patients is essentially biting off the head that feeds them, and as the need for life-support instruments and technology wanes, physicians may have to look for new sources of income.
I envision a community of physicians leaning on their elbows in quiet, dusty offices, the Maytag Repairmen of the new millennium.
Because, the rest of us will all be either healthy or dead.
(By the way, a moment of silence, please for Jesse “Maytag” White, gone on to The Great Sack O’ Suds. We can only hope that if Paradise exists, he’s been assigned an infinitesimal number of washers & dryers on the fritz.)
Then will come the greatest re-write of all, from The Book Of Luke:
“Yes, you will surely quote me this proverb, ‘Physician, Kill Thyself.’ Whatever things we have heard of done in theory, do here also in thy own practice.”
I’m with you, Mr. Thomas.
Rage on.
Copyright 2006 B. Elwin Sherman, from his book: “TOOLKIT IN PARADISE – The Self-Helpless Guide To A Decade Of American Wit & Wisdom.” Used with permission.
E-MAIL ELWIN!
It’s all around us now, the search for ways to improve our standard of dying. We’re fast-approaching the land of diminishing returns. Maybe if we focused a bit more on ways to live with humor and grace, we’d be less concerned about how to die with dignity. The former is the only time-tested proving ground for the latter, anyway.
It’s enough to put Dylan Thomas off his feed:
Doctor-assisted suicide.
Give me five good reasons and one bad excuse,” my mother used to say whenever I was caught in flagrante delicto or if I wanted any extracurricular treat, “then maybe we’ll talk about it.”
Okay, Ma. You helped set me on this path, now sit back and enjoy the tour. Here they are: Five Good Reasons And One Bad Excuse Why Doctor-Assisted Suicide Is A Good Or Bad Idea:
5. NEW HUMOR
All the jokes will need a re-write. Take the old chestnut: “The operation was a failure, but the patient lived.” Or: What’s the difference between a doctor and a lawyer? “Lawyers rob you, but doctors rob you and save you, too.” Breathes new life into ‘em.
Thus far, a physician’s act of commission or omission that could be linked to the cause of a patient’s demise has been at worst negligent and at best unforeseeable, and for reason number four, it should stay that way.
4. LITIGATION
I can see the first lawsuit now: “DYING MAN SUES DOCTOR IN LANDMARK WRONGFUL LIFE CASE.” Here’s an excerpt from the testimony:
“So, doctor, you then provided the plaintiff with a lethal dose of drugs, correct?”
Yes, but he didn’t strictly follow my instructions.”
Are you saying the plaintiff is still alive through no fault of yours?”
Yes. I told him to take all the pills the usual way. But, he only took two, went to bed and called me in the morning.”
3. THE HIPPOCRATIC OATH
It currently reads: “I will give no deadly medicine to anyone if asked, nor suggest any such counsel.” Obviously, this doesn’t jive with handing one’s patient a pharmaceutical shotgun. It will not only need to be revoked, but should have a catchy new moniker.
We could call it: “The Decease And Desist Decree.” It would read, in part:
“I will supply the rope to those at the end of theirs. And, as an adjunctive therapy for their family, friends and the general public, I will prescribe B. Elwin Sherman's TOOLKIT IN PARADISE to all who come to me seeking to buy the farm, thus insuring they and others will be laughing as the heavenly deed is purchased,” for instance.
(Hey, if PBS can sneak the Ziplock dancing finger in between programs under the guise of being a “corporate sponsor” I can sell a little soap between quips)
2. METHODOLOGY AND PRACTICE
All the terminology I’ve seen, including the Model State Act drafted in Boston by a team of doctors, lawyers, academics and Hemlock Society members, uses the term: “medical means” of suicide.
Careful, I think we need some specifics here, or we’ll have endocrinologists handing out glucose overdoses to their diabetic patients. Before you know it, sugar will become a controlled substance and the rest of us will need prescriptions for fudge brownies.
Ben & Jerry would be outcast as narcotic kingpins.
And, unless we want asthmatic sufferers being told by their internists to “just lie down in the hayloft,” we’d better set some guidelines.
1. ADVERTISING
Brad Wieners writes in the San Francisco Bay Guardian: “Advertising believes steadfastly in immortality. It shows little or no death. It tells you what it thinks you want to hear, never what it thinks you don’t want to hear, but should. Art does.”
It follows, that when Death comes to Madison Avenue as a better mousetrap, and the grey flannel folks hook-up with Parke Lilly, (already a built-in killer subtlety) the pseudo art nouveau will emerge. Trust me on this.
An animated, computer-enhanced Whistler’s Mother will rise from her rocker and reach for her Bible and a bottle of ... Dylenol? Gotrin? Banacin? Termi-Tabs? Ghost-Caps?
And, picture this: Wide-angle view of The Sistine Chapel. Camera pans up to The Creation Of Adam, Michaelangelo’s signature rendition of the birth of Man. And, there, in the outstretched hand of God, as it reaches to bring life to A-Number One himself, a bottle of Supremitol (extra-strength, of course) is tenderly offered.
It goes without saying that Handel’s Messiah, swelling in the background, will reach fortissimo proportions when the A-man takes the sacred surfeit. Then, cue announcer: “New life is just a pass away. Supremitol: from the makers of---”
ONE BAD EXCUSE
As prescribing life-ending methods for their terminal patients is essentially biting off the head that feeds them, and as the need for life-support instruments and technology wanes, physicians may have to look for new sources of income.
I envision a community of physicians leaning on their elbows in quiet, dusty offices, the Maytag Repairmen of the new millennium.
Because, the rest of us will all be either healthy or dead.
(By the way, a moment of silence, please for Jesse “Maytag” White, gone on to The Great Sack O’ Suds. We can only hope that if Paradise exists, he’s been assigned an infinitesimal number of washers & dryers on the fritz.)
Then will come the greatest re-write of all, from The Book Of Luke:
“Yes, you will surely quote me this proverb, ‘Physician, Kill Thyself.’ Whatever things we have heard of done in theory, do here also in thy own practice.”
I’m with you, Mr. Thomas.
Rage on.
Copyright 2006 B. Elwin Sherman, from his book: “TOOLKIT IN PARADISE – The Self-Helpless Guide To A Decade Of American Wit & Wisdom.” Used with permission.
E-MAIL ELWIN!