
I am among the millions of baby boomers who either have helped provide home hospice care for their dying parents or will do so in the near future. Until July 2013, I spent several decades as an emergency room nurse in Philadelphia, so I am very familiar with end-of-life medical issues.
February 2014 marked the end of a yearlong nightmare in which I was arrested and prosecuted on the felony charge of aiding the suicide of my terminally ill 93-year-old father. I handed my father his legally prescribed morphine at his request, and he consumed the contents of the partially filled one-ounce vial. He was in severe pain, and perhaps he meant to end his life.
My father’s home hospice care provider and the police summarily invalidated his legal end-of-life directives, in which he asked not to be resuscitated and named me as his healthcare proxy. He died four days later in a hospital, where he contracted pneumonia and was subjected to exactly the treatment he specified he never wanted.
I was suspended from my nursing job and incurred legal expenses of more than $100,000. Had I been convicted, I would have faced a maximum of 10 years in prison. Thankfully, a judge dismissed the charge, citing a lack of evidence and a prosecution based on hearsay, speculation, and conjecture. The attorney general decided not to appeal, but stated that unless the state law was amended, she “would continue to enforce the law as it currently exists.”
After this ordeal, we were determined that my mother would have a better experience at the end of her life. But we were still dealing with the same healthcare system.
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