End of life

Terri Schiavo has been all over the news in the past weeks, and I find myself thinking back to when my grandmother died. She had cancer, and had a DNR order. It's what Grandma wanted. It was tough getting that phone call from the hospital early in the morning that summer-- my Mom and I camped out and sleeping in my Grandmother's huge antique bed. My Dad had just left to go back to Massachusetts to work since he couldn't take more time off. He wound up driving right back to Maine again. I remember wondering why she wanted a DNR, but then remembered how she'd looked near the end.
Grandma was a woman with much class and dignity. She was not accustomed to having a bed pan under her, or having to have people bathe her. She couldn't have lived that way for long-- it would have driven her mad. She didn't even like the chaplain coming in to pray over her-- she wasn't the type of person who wanted prayers-- she was the type of person who was of action. She gave a lot of money to the needy, and a lot of time teaching those who needed to be taught, and she never asked for anything in return. When I think of this poor family fighting over Terri's life it makes me hurt for them-- for her. Grandma wanted and DNR and even if we didn't agree with it at least we knew her wishes. With Terri we'll never really know.