My Heart Goes Out to Michael Schiavo

In case you have just returned to civilization after living in a cave for the last few months, or have a very short memory, Michael Schiavo was the husband of Terri Schiavo, a woman in Florida who recently died after fifteen years in a persistent vegetative state and who was the subject of a big political rhubarb. My heart goes out to Michael Schiavo because he has been vilified for doing exactly what I would want my wife to do if I were in Mrs Schaivo’s state; namely, getting on with life and turning off those accursed "life"-support machines. I can’t do much for Mr Schaivo, beyond expressing my support in a blog which very few people will ever see, but I can to something for my self against the day when, God forbid, I am in the state Mrs Schaivo was in.

So, just in case someday some Doctor Frankenstein wants to use a machine to pump blood through my body, or some “pro-life” ghouls want to force-feed my body through a tube, here are the criteria use to determine whether to leave the life-support machines running.

Unless there is a good chance that I will one day again be able to stand on a mountain top, or on an untamed seashore, or walk through forests or meadows, turn off the machines!

Unless there is a good chance that I will one day again be able to tell a Song Sparrow from a House Sparrow, turn off the machines!

Unless there is a good chance that I will one day again be able to go places I’ve never been before, see things I’ve never seen before, and learn things I’ve never known before, turn off the machines!

Unless there is a good chance that I will one day again be able to make decisions which affect my own destiny, turn off the machines!

What do I mean by a “good chance”? I mean at least an even chance. Unless it is at least as likely that I will recover to the extent of meeting the conditions above as it is that I will not recover, turn off the machines.

I would not want to live if I could not truly live.