Marion Pember

Marion Pember shared his story in May of 2023.

Over 10 years ago I taught our Sunday school class a lesson on end-of-life options and planning. As part of the presentation, I presented voluntarily stopping eating and drinking (VSED) as one of the choices one could make. Even though medical aid in dying isn’t an option in Kansas, I want people to know that they can take VSED into their own hands as an option to finish out their life.

Years later, in June of 2020, Carol woke up one morning with severe right-side chest pain. She thought she had pulled a muscle, but three days later when the pain had not subsided, I took her to the doctor. She had ingested a food particle and developed pneumonia in her right lung. She was hospitalized, and we were told she should be out within four days. But instead of improving, she was nauseous, couldn’t keep food down, and the pneumonia stayed on.

Then her kidneys started shutting down. They took her to do dialysis, which took over four hours. When she returned to her room, she was extremely upset. She said it was the worst procedure she had ever experienced and that she wasn’t going to do it again.

A doctor came in and told her that she could do dialysis three times a week for a month and maybe get the kidneys working again. She told the doctor in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t go through that again: “Dialysis will not assure me quality of living, only prolong the process of dying. No dialysis!” She refused treatment, and the doctor informed her that she should then move to palliative care.

Although I didn’t expect Carol’s response, I was not surprised by it. I believe she was just sick and tired of being sick and tired. She had suffered from type 2 diabetes for over 30 years, was losing her eyesight, and had COPD and a chronic back injury. A few weeks before she got pneumonia, she had eye surgery that was supposed to improve her vision, and it ended up being futile. This was a big blow to her as she was an avid reader. She was already having to read using a magnifying glass.

Carol was a talented person. She was a trained marriage and family counselor, and had used those skills in working with individuals, couples and groups. She was also very good at handicrafts. She was an excellent seamstress, and for many years she made her own clothes. She was attacked by the quilting bug, and quilts in process were often part of our home décor. She even led a quilting group and taught a class in basket weaving. But with the loss of her eyesight she wasn’t able to do many of the things she most cherished doing.

I took my wife home from the hospital for treatment under home hospice care. She decided to do VSED; she had already been struggling with her health for 10 years. We contacted our children and grandchildren, and told them what was happening. Her devotion to her family was returned when all learned she had entered home hospice care. They were all shocked — but supportive — and one of our granddaughters, who is a registered nurse, even volunteered to take care of Carol through her last days, which she did. Hospice was helpful in taking care of her and visited a couple of times a week, but our granddaughter was there 24/7.

In those last three weeks of her life, our two children, all six grandchildren and four of our great-grandchildren came to visit. I actually believe it was the best three weeks she’d had in years! The great-grandchildren were active around her, and she loved it. We had a lot of stuffed animals in the house, and the great-grandchildren would put them on top of Carol and her hospital bed in the living room, and the kids would laugh. She got to hold her great-grandchildren, and she also had the opportunity to tell each adult child and grandchild goodbye one-on-one.

It was difficult for me to watch her going through this, and at the same time satisfying to see how she was closing out with everyone. I stayed with her throughout this entire time, sleeping on a sofa beside her hospital bed at night. Probably the most difficult thing to deal with was the question she kept asking, “When am I going to die?” The good thing was that she was lucid, surrounded by love and pain free until she died.

Carol died during her sleep on July 3, 2020. She left behind the body that had served her for almost 83 years and was wearing out, and entered the other side of physical life to see what waited there. She lived life to the fullest, and she is most remembered for her infectious laugh and her readiness in helping others learn new skills.

After Carol died, I decided to move into a continuous care retirement community, and several months later I took an online course on Compassion & Choices. Based on that information I have taught a course to residents of my community three times. It has been well received, and I will probably be teaching it again.

I have also made a presentation to a retired clergy group I belong to in this area. As a chaplain, I’ve met with people over the years in many different circumstances. I have also seen death happen in many different ways. Through these experiences I have realized there are sometimes more humane options than just being kept alive. My journey in leading workshops about end-of-life issues started more than a decade ago, and my passion for informing people of their rights and options continues. End-of-life planning is a very important task that must be done, and it need not be done in isolation; loved ones need to know your last wishes to be ready to support you.