|
Within weeks this spring, a federal
judge reversed the Bush administration's effort to invalidate
Oregon's physician-assisted suicide law for terminally ill
patients. And Barbara Roberts' book -- "Death Without
Denial, Grief Without Apology" -- was published by NewSage
Press.
The events are not unrelated. Barbara Roberts was governor
of Oregon in the early '90s when voters made that state America's
first to provide a legal way for doctors to prescribe powerful
sedatives or narcotics to let pain-afflicted terminal patients
end their lives.
And it was Roberts' late husband,
Frank Roberts, a state senator, who three times had introduced
Oregon's "Death With Dignity" law. His fellow legislators
didn't approve the measure, but Oregon voters did, through
the initiative process twice, in 1994 and again in 1997.
Barbara Roberts' book tells the story
of how she and Frank faced his last year of life, after learning
he had terminal lung cancer. How they decided to live that
year to the full, with many special quiet times together including
a memorable trip to Hawaii.
Roberts tells how Frank took immense
care to assure that every detail - from his will to funeral
arrangements, insurance and obituary information to disposal
of his remains - was discussed and settled on long the last
stages of his illness. The pre-planning not only gave Frank
and Barbara peace of mind; it left both of them free, she
notes, to "concentrate on life and living."
Don't delay preparations, she counsels:
"Denial is not your friend. It makes you squander your
most precious asset -- time." And how to use it? "Create
photographs and videotapes. Have intimate conversations and
special dinners with friends. Give or ask forgiveness for
an old injury. Build memories with your children, share stories
with you grandchildren. Sunrises, sunsets, quiet walks, laughter,
more stories, and expressions of love are still possible."
As Frank approached the final weeks
of his life, Roberts writes, "he longed for release from
his massive deterioration. Tired and bedridden, he felt little
quality remained in his life. How he wished for 'his law'
to be in place" - even though, as Roberts describes it,
he had extraordinarily sensitive hospice care in his own home.
Roberts does not suggest, though,
that physician-assisted suicide can or should be used heavily.
In Oregon, it doesn't apply unless a patient is deemed mentally
competent and two physicians attest he or she has less than
six months to live. Roberts notes that of the 120,000 Oregonians
who have died since the law took effect in 1998, only 91 have
asked doctors to prescribe lethal doses of drugs.
It was precisely that right that Attorney
General John Ashcroft sought to negate by asserting lethal
prescriptions were illegal because they served no "legitimate
medical purpose" under the federal Controlled Substances
Act. Oregon immediately challenged the ruling, noting the
Supreme Court had specifically left "right to die"
issues to the states. Federal Judge Robert Jones upheld Oregon
on April 17.
"The citizens of Oregon, through
their democratic initiative process, have chosen to resolve
the moral, legal and ethical debate on physician-assisted
suicide," Jones noted, accusing Ashcroft of seeking to
"stifle an ongoing, earnest and profound debate"
on the issue.
The Justice Department may appeal,
though if one believes -- as conservatives ostensibly do --
that states should make their own decisions whenever possible,
then federal intervention here is unconscionable.
Certainly if there were ever suspicion that assisted suicide
advocates don't grasp the deep dimensions of death, Barbara
Roberts' book puts them to rest. Our society, she writes,
has kept death issues in a closet. We're unwilling to use
the "die" word; we keep patients hooked up to cold
tubes and respirators and heart monitors when "what a
dying person needs is comfort, closeness, dignity, and in
some cases, pain control."
Mixed into Roberts tender, intensely personal account of her
husband's last days and minutes is a painfully honest look
into the survivor's grief - its psychological depth, its pain,
its tenacity. How the intertwined burdens of guilt, loss and
loneliness represent "grief work." How it's "OK
to be weird," whether it's keeping his slippers out or
preserving a few of the lost one's ashes in a small container
at home. And how, only when the grief runs its natural course,
can full healing and a fresh zest for life return.
For those of us who knew more of Barbara Roberts' public side
-- as elected leader of her state, champion of the environment,
"inventor" of radically improved government management
approaches -- this book provides a flood of new, quite personal
insights. But no contradictions: to know Barbara Roberts is
to know compelling honesty, freshness, humor, hope. The people
of Oregon were fortunate to have her as governor (if but for
one term -- the hard years in which she lost her husband).
Now, with her book and its themes so unusual for a political
figure, we all get to share.
|