You are worth it. I am worth it.

I'm angry. And sad. Yes. Despite the fact that I am sitting outside on my front porch, enjoying the brisk cold breeze waiting the sun to move enough to touch my toes. Despite the fact that I get the afternoon "off". Despite the fact that my boys are running around the front yard and making me smile at them and Moe stops by to give me drive by kisses (he's a race car driver at the moment). We are all proceeding with our life as normal, but I'm sitting here wondering....what is my life worth? Theirs? Yours? What defines worth? Amid all the crap spewing from the TV and radio about Health Care Reform and Death Panels. I have no idea what that means and holds and really I don't give a shit right now, but here I am, faced with a 95 year old grandmother who was sentenced to death by the system, by the workers, by her family. (not me, or my sisters mind you but we are fighters when it counts)

So my question is, when is a life not worth fighting for any longer? When do you give up on a person....just quit. Quit feeding them, quit hoping for them, quit loving their presence. I know, understand and get that there are degrees of when the right time is to let go. And you all have answers for this based on your personal experiences, and I don't discount those. But from my recent experience, I cannot support not fighting in cases like my grandma.

She had a stroke. It was determined very early (by God knows who) that "this is as good as it gets" as she laid there, body in shock. Immediately unable to communicate in really any way. She couldn't feed herself. Because she couldn't feed herself she did not get fed. Luckily she was hydrated because they had an IV in her so that they could continue to pump morphine into her system. But, as that morphine wore off, she did begin to communicate in some ways with my sister, motioning to her for a drink as she was parched. Smiling when my sister would come into the room, communicating how she could. She would let my sister know when the pain was too much, and then my sister would get the nurse to give her morphine. She was there. Fighting. People who want to die do not fight. People who want to die do not suck down orange juice with all the force they can muster, even though swallowing wasn't working very well. But still, no food is given. Because she went without basic nutritional needs for so long, especially in the very beginning, her physical condition greatly and rapidly deteriorated. The nurses told my sister (as my grandmother asked for food) not to worry, that soon her brain would no longer recognize the hunger pains. WHAT? She's hungry. She's letting you know she's hungry. And after awhile starvation is not recognized by the brain. ??????????? I get the brain learns to deal....go brain! But, SHE'S HUNGRY.

I'm certain thru the care my sister gave her she lasted as long as she did. The hospital finally pitched enough of a fit that the family moved her to a nursing home where she'd smile and reach for my sister, rubbing her arm. She was getting some food down (SHE IMPROVED), but by this point her internal organs were shutting down so it made little difference. It was too late. They starved her body at the critical time, when she could have improved and sustained life. My sister did what she could for her and in the end she passed in her sleep. Thankfully, appearingly, painfree...

I can't help but wonder if she had been 40, with 3 young kids, would we have given her a feeding tube when her body needed nutrition the most....after all, we shouldn't leave kids without a mom.

I can't help but wonder if she was 16 would we have done everything we could to fight for her life and rehabilitate her....because "she has her whole life in front of her"

I think of Christopher Reeve and the fact that he would have died much sooner if not for hell, every sort of intervention possible for his condition. If he was 95, would anyone have fought for him?

When is your life disposable? In all honesty, it wasn't about money. She had it. The family had it. The gas wells on the farm produced soooo much income they all could live in nursing homes, starting now. So that isn't it. It wasn't about health care insurance (see money not a factor). It was about whether or not to fight for someone's life. She was there. She wasn't a vegetable. She was trying. She was cognizant of the people around her and fighting herself for life. It was truly about her being 95 and "she's lived a good life" and hiding behind it "being God's will". God's will.. bah. If that was true my son would have burst his kidneys by now and be dead. But I began fighting for his life before he was born. If things just happen as some sort of higher power's will, why have doctors at all? Seat belts. Any protective devices to preserve life... Why? Because we have free will and we have the ability to make choices and care and do whatever is in our given power to preserve life and peace. If all we were meant to do is exist and die we wouldn't have higher brain functioning. If we can do something we should. And yes, I know, I'm on the verge of rambling on and on, but I'm not terribly pleased with things at the moment so I get to.

I pray I'm never too old to be valuable. And I pray I'm never in any situation where this is a question. If I am there, I am worth it. And you are worth it.

Fight for me. Love me. Keep me. Because I have entrusted you my heart and soul. And because I will never stop fighting for you. Never stop loving you. Never stop being thankful for the fact you have trusted me with your heart and soul.