Some bittersweet political humor on the subject of living wills, shared on the occasion of me getting a living will in preparation for my upcoming heart surgery.
By ROBERT FRIEDMAN, Perspective Editor
Published March 27, 2005
Like many of you, I have been compelled by recent events (Terri Schiavo) to prepare a more detailed advance directive dealing with end-of-life issues. Here’s what mine says:
- In the event I lapse into a persistent vegetative state, I want medical authorities to resort to extraordinary means to prolong my hellish semi-existence. Fifteen years wouldn’t be long enough for me.
- I want my case to be turned into a circus by losers and crackpots from around the country who hope to bring meaning to their empty lives by investing the same transient emotion in me that they once reserved for Laci Peterson, Chandra Levy and that little girl who got stuck in a well.
- I want those crackpots to spread vicious lies about my wife.
- I want to be placed in a hospice where protesters can gather to bring further grief and disruption to the lives of dozens of dying patients and families whose stories are sadder than my own.
- I want the people who attach themselves to my case because of their deep devotion to the sanctity of life to make death threats against any judges, elected officials or health care professionals who disagree with them.