CPE Reflection #5 - "I just want to die"

“I just want to die.”

I can’t say I was ready to hear someone share those words. I’d seen movies and documentaries where people expressed not wanting to live anymore, but that was on television. This was real life. It was happening right in front of my eyes.  I was a little shocked by it, and I hope my facial expression wasn’t as apparent as what was happening in my head. 

Jim is in his 60’s. He’s been at Mercy for a few days but has been in and out of the hospital for a year or so. He’s a bit far from his home in York, SC, but as his condition deteriorated, Mercy turned out to be the best place for him. Jim is diabetic, and one of the complications of his disease has been the loss of his right foot. It started with his toes. Now, about half of his foot remains. The medical team is suggesting a BKA (below knee amputation). What remains of his foot is badly infected, and the antibiotics cannot keep up with the infection rate. However, Jim is refusing surgery. 

He knows what’s happening. If he refuses the surgery, he’ll continue to get sicker until he becomes septic. Then, he’ll die. He’s experienced sepsis before and recalls that it is an arduous path. He’d like to avoid it and is hopeful that the antibiotics will start to work. But the medical team doesn’t share the same hope. They’re seeing things get worse and know that the risk and likelihood of sepsis is accurate in Jim’s situation. 

“They can’t take my leg,” Jim shared. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to live. I won’t be able to drive my car. I can hardly get around as it is. I can’t afford any kind of prosthetic. I’m poor, dirt poor. I don’t have a pot to piss in.” 

We talked a bit to make sure he understood the effects of his decision. Keeping his leg - and it’s certainly his choice - will potentially lead to sepsis, and that will lead to death. It was clear that we were both on the same page about this. He gets it. But he can’t get past the idea of not having his leg. And then it hit - “I guess this is tantamount to suicide. Don’t you think?” 

Now, I was challenged. How do I respond to this? I have my feelings about this decision and suicide. Clearly, this isn’t the time to express those. So, I volley the conversation back, asking what in his faith leads him to believe that choosing to keep his leg equates to suicide. He wrestled with that question for a while, and I let us sit in silence as he pondered a response. The pause was long but felt appropriate, given the gravity of the topic. 

When the response came, it was back to an acceptance of death. “I don’t have any friends. I don’t have any family members who care about me. I live alone, and my dog Beau died, so I don’t even have him anymore. I just want to die.”  

I have written other reflections, knowing where I wanted to go with it. I wasn’t sure when I started this one, and I’m still unsure after capturing this story. It would take several more pages to reflect on the experience fully. Perhaps in the next reflection.