Our parish's business manager, Joan Fiore, had a pulmonary embolism the other night and is at the brink of life or death. Please pray hard for her. She is the mother of 2 children, a 4th grader and a 6th grader.
Joan is also the business manager of our parish's mission in the mountains, St. Rita's in Nederland. Joan and her husband and children are parishioners at St. Rita's.
An intriguing phone call came in from a nursing home asking me to come see a man, but the caller didn't think the patient was doing poorly. Knowing the patient, I thought, "Hm, something's going on." So I begged off from a spiritual direction session with someone and trudged off to the nursing home. This man is well into his 90's and has lived a faith-filled life. Rather quickly he told me that he had been dreaming/thinking of suicide and found it very unsettling. While talking about what dying is like, I told him that when we draw close to death there are certain temptations we go through, and temptations are not sins. We face a temptation to despair because the dying process is so very difficult. We face a temptation to give in to impatience because the process of dying is so drawn out. We face the temptation of greed (believe it or not) in the sense of wanting to control our possessions and who gets what. These temptations are ways the tempter tries to derail us from the true object of our desires: the Lord Jesus whom we are soon to meet. These temptations are fought by calling upon the Lord Jesus. So, I told him: When these temptations come, say, "In the name of Jesus, begone evil spirit!" And great peace came upon him. It's moments like these that make being a priest so chock full of grace.
One of our wonderful ministers of care to the sick called and asked that I go to the hospital because the man she visited was talking about suicide. He has had cancer for the last year and a half and is tired of being sick. So, I went to see him, and as we got into conversation he asked, "What is wrong with suicide?" He has three children from late teenage to early thirties, so I asked him what impact his suicide would have on them. He's divorced and his children haven't lived with him until his 17 year old recently came to live with him to "take care of" him.
I said, "What an act of love that is!" And so we talked about his need to realize that his son is doing something wonderful for him, but kids that age also need something, like a relationship with Dad.
The more we talked, the more I understood that this man, after baptism, was never reared in the practice of the Catholic faith. (No wonder he did not have hope.) The extent of his faith was to believe there there must be a "Higher Power," and he didn't believe in heaven or hell. So, I said, "What if you're 
wrong? What if you die and meet the Lord? Then you will see the impact your suicidal death would have on all those who know you and love you? Suicide tends to be contagious, you know, like a mental giving of permission to give up, lose hope, and cave in to despair. If you're right about there not being a heaven or hell, then who will know if you are right? But if you are wrong, you'll be meeting a God of love, who will show you yourself through His eyes, eyes of love, but eyes that are not clouded by self-defense, or masks or pretensions. And that adjustment to seeing our lives as they really have been is what we call purgatory, adjusting to how often we missed the mark. So don't miss the mark with this 17 year old son of yours who wants to be with you, care for you, and be inspired by you. Don't give him bad example at the end of your life. Your upcoming death is not all about you."
Even though he did not know what "sacraments" are, and God knows what else about our faith he does not know, he did allow me to give him the anointing of the sick. And if I ever needed proof of the power of the sacraments, his being given the Sacrament of the Sick was a truly moving experience for him.
Today I went to visit a dying parishioner. She's a wonderful, faithful Catholic lady. When she was better she had been for a long time a sacristan, a Minister of Holy Communion, and a lector. She wants to do nothing against God's will. After talking with 3 different priests, she finally made her decision to let nature take its course. A very tough decision, supported by all three priests.
About every organ in her body (except for her clear mind and good hearing) is failing. She's been on dialysis for quite some time; her breathing is failing; her heart is filling up with congestive heart failure; and on and on. If she were living in a third world country she'd be dead already. Modern medicine is keeping her alive beyond her time. As the dialysis is no longer as effective as it had been, the time has come and she has decided to cease the dialysis treatments. Her last such treatment will be on Saturday. I asked her, "How long will you have?" "About 10 days," she said.
The moral issue here is what can be done, morally, and what cannot be done? According to Catholic moral theology, a person can do nothing to take his own or her own life. And no one can do anything to take another person's life. Dialysis, however, is an issue that needs to be looked at within the context of the patient's prognosis. Is the patient doing OK? If so, continue the dialysis. If the patient is surely dying, and the process of dying naturally is prolonged by dialysis, then the treatments need not be continued. So also with a breathing tube; but that's a whole other discussion.
So, let's say a prayer for Gwen and for all persons in such circumstances.
