Brittany Maynard has become a household name over the past few weeks because of her decision to end her life after being diagnosed with a terminal brain tumor once she was done fulfilling her bucket list, which included promoting the right to euthanize terminally ill patients in the United States. Maynard moved to Oregon so she would be able to end her life on her terms, entitling this act her “death with dignity.” Her story is being praised all over the place, and I have to be honest, it really frustrates me.
I’ve never been in Brittany Maynard’s shoes, so I have no idea how I would actually respond to that diagnosis. The suffering that she faced must have been excruciating, especially when she was given the choice to end her life within a few weeks’ time. When it comes right down to it, do any of us really know what we would do in that situation? It would be extraordinarily tough to face her disease when she could choose to end her suffering prematurely, before it had too many negative effects on her life. What I am about to say, though, contradicts the ideas that Brittany Maynard spent her last days promoting: the idea that we should choose when to die when faced with difficult circumstances, and the idea that a chosen death is more dignified. While I don’t know Brittany Maynard and haven’t been where she’s been, I have most definitely struggled with the belief that she represents.
The idea that choosing to die instead of facing difficult circumstances is one that truly upsets me. Two of the most beautiful examples of life that I’ve seen have both been given terminal diagnoses, and neither of them chose euthanasia. One of them is my precious “adopted” grandmother, Mrs. Sue. Mrs. Sue was one of the most wonderful human beings on this planet, and I really mean that. She was a shining example of Christianity. The day before she received her diagnosis, I was in Harp’s grocery store when I ran into her husband who told me that she really wasn’t feeling well. Over the next few days, we found out that Mrs. Sue was diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia, a terminal diagnosis, that was made even worse by her struggles with severe Crohn’s disease. Mrs. Sue’s disease was, in no way, dignified. It was ugly, and her battle was difficult, to say the least. But in the process of dying, Mrs. Sue showed so many people the beauty of her life. Instead of deciding to end it at a certain time, she chose to spend her last days telling everyone in the hospital about her faith. On many occasions, I sat in her hospital room and listened to her family tell funny story after funny story. I will always remember her precious laugh, her quiet determination to enjoy her last days on earth. The last time I saw Mrs. Sue was in her living room on a Sunday morning. She had decided to spend her last hours in her home with Hospice care. Several people had gone to her house for a short worship service, since she was too weak to come to the church building. I’ll never forget hugging her neck for quite some time and hearing those sweet words of “I love you, baby girl.” You see, Mrs. Sue’s disease is not what I remember about her. It’s the wonderful, dignified life that she lived. Instead of spending our days in dread of her chosen death date, we got to enjoy our last moments with Mrs. Sue without worrying about when she would choose to die. I don’t know if Brittany Maynard’s family got this same privilege, and it makes me so sad if they didn’t.
Even closer to my heart, though, is the second example. A few years ago, a young boy was given the diagnosis of amelanotic melanoma with an unknown primary source. Essentially, this boy was handed a death sentence. His society hadn’t come up with a treatment for this disease (they still haven’t), so instead, they gave him a few weeks to live. His family was told to go home and give him a good Christmas since they couldn’t do much else. The fate of that young man doesn’t sound very promising, does it? Sounds like a good candidate for this “death with dignity” idea that is floating around, right?
But that boy didn’t die. Instead, he grew up, got married, had two daughters and three grandkids, became an excellent project manager, and most importantly, he has spent most of his life preaching, going on mission trips, and sharing his faith with his community. He is a wonderful man, a wonderful husband, a wonderful father, and a wonderful friend. According to the doctors, he wasn’t supposed to live; but God had a different plan from what the doctors said. If that family had made the choice to give this boy “death with dignity” instead of putting his fate in the hands of God, I wouldn’t be here…because that little boy is my living, breathing, “not supposed to be alive” father.
How many beautiful stories would we miss if we chose to end life through euthanasia? How many laughs, smiles, hugs, and kisses in the midst of suffering? How many precious moments to look back on when that person is gone, naturally? How many lives would end prematurely, simply because the doctor tells us we won’t make it? And when did our society decide that it is ok, even praiseworthy, to leave behind the lives that God has given us when things get hard? You see, we won’t ever know the rest of Brittany Maynard’s story, because she chose to end it. How heartbreakingly sad.
From the Brain of Kyndall Brown 