Like Kara Tippetts, My heart goes out to Brittany and her family. I want Brittany to know that she is loved, not just by her family and friend, but also by me. I will keep Brittany and Kara in my prayers and good thoughts, just as I do Cheryl Broyles.
I can sympathize with Brittany because I too have Stage 4 glioblastoma. I was given two to three years, maybe five, about one year ago. Glioblastoma is a killer. Four percent of people with this disease are alive after five years. Death by glioblastoma is excruciating. I'm older than Brittany by 23 years. I have survived epilepsy and a meningioma before getting diagnosed with a glioblastoma. I also have a husband as well as a son, a mother, father and grandmother, as well as brothers, sister-in-laws, and nieces, nephews and cousins. I have run two half marathons and I climbed Half Dome in 2011. That is where our similarities end.
In the video, the only reason that Brittany gives us to consider life of value is to "make sure that you're not missing out. Seize the day. Pursue that. Forget the rest." She is living life on her terms, the way that she wants to. In the face of terminal cancer, this is certainly understandable. I too have my own "bucket list". The first thing I did was to visit the Holy Land with my family (thankfully, before Gaza started firing rockets).
And yet, I am a Catholic, first, last and always. And even though I was without my faith for twenty years, I came back to it because there was always something missing. I was incomplete without allowing God in my life. (Notice I wrote "allow" for God is always there, even when I didn't want Him to be.) This is why I will not be committing suicide or "physician-assisted" euthanasia, despite my terminal diagnosis.
Those who advocate for euthanasia, suicide and abortion are saying that the intentional taking of a human life is justified, whatever the reason. Brittany's reason for justifying euthanasia/suicide is, "I believe this choice is ethical, and what makes it ethical is it is a choice." That is a tautology which doesn't prove anything about the ethics of making such a choice.
As a Catholic, each of us has been made in God's image and likeness (Genesis 1:27) with both a body and an immortal soul. We are embodied souls. Therefore, life is sacred from the moment of conception until natural death. No one can justify (although many have tried) the intentional taking of an innocent human life. Preserving our body and nourishing our soul is not discretionary. It is obligatory. The Catechism states that:
"Everyone is responsible for his life before God who has given it to him. It is God who remains the sovereign Master of life. We are obliged to accept life gratefully and preserve it for his honor and the salvation of our souls. We are stewards, not owners, of the life God has entrusted to us. It is not ours to dispose of" (#2280).
Suicide also violates love for oneself and one's neighbor, family and friends - even people you don't know. It leaves a lasting legacy for those left behind. My ex-boyfriend committed suicide. He had chronic depression and being an atheist, he had no hope in anything greater than himself. So he hung himself off his balcony. The postman found him five days later. I can't even imagine the state of his body, his house being in the mountains with wild animals about in the forest. The postman was so traumatized that he needed professional help.
Euthanasia, like suicide, also violates love for oneself and one's neighbor. First, it is legalized for the terminally ill. But then, like cancer, it spreads to the chronically depressed, the elderly, the disabled, and ultimately even for children - anyone the government deems unworthy to live. Before you know it, doctor's are euthanizing people without their relatives consent as Crisis Magazine's article, Recalling Euthanasia's Legacy of Death, amply points out. Or, as the Christian Medical Fellowship in the UK points out there are several good reasons why euthanasia should be opposed.
We are needed by other people. We don't live only for ourselves. I am deeply sorry that Brittany and her husband did not have a child. I know how hurt she must be, because my husband and I found out shortly after we were married that we were not able to have children. We had time to adopt a son, making us a family instead of a couple. (Two years later, I had my first brain tumor.) It is primarily through our children that we learn to live for others. But even for those who aren't married or who do not have children, service to others shows us that there is an endless need.
I have not yet been to Spain, Normandy, Istanbul or India - all on my bucket list. I have a duty to my son and to my husband who has supported me faithfully the whole way. Helping my son with his homework, his Boy Scout troop, and with the chores around the house, is ultimately more important than my bucket list. Perhaps some will see this as mundane, but I see it as love beginning in the home. Do the small things with love.
Does having a terminal disease make it physician-assisted suicide/euthanasia qualitatively different? Aside from the fact that we are created by God, I believe that the answer to this question turns on the meaning of suffering. St. Paul said that suffering is a participation in the mystery of Christ and is the way we can become like Christ so that we “may attain the resurrection from the dead” (Philippians 3:10-11). Christians are supposed to participate in the Passion of Christ, in union with Him through suffering. It's a path to attain the salvation, purchased for us by Christ. Peter Kreeft puts it thus:
In summary, Jesus did three things to solve the problem of suffering. First, he came. He suffered with us. He wept. Second, in becoming man he transformed the meaning of our suffering: it is now part of his work of redemption. Our death pangs become birth pangs for heaven, not only for ourselves but also for those we love. Third, he died and rose. Dying, he paid the price for sin and opened heaven to us; rising, he transformed death from a hole into a door, from an end into a beginning.
That third thing, now—resurrection. It makes more than all the difference in the world. Many condolences begin by saying something like this: "I know nothing can bring back your dear one again, but.. ." No matter what words follow, no matter what comforting psychology follows that "but," Christianity says something to the bereaved that makes all the rest trivial, something the bereaved longs infinitely more to hear: God can and will bring back your dear one again to life. There is resurrection.Pope Francis puts it this way:
"Suffering is not a value in itself, but a reality that Jesus teaches us to live with the correct attitude....Your sufferings, like the wounds of Jesus, on the one hand are scandal for the faith but on the other hand are the verification of the faith, a sign that God is love, is faithful, is merciful, is (the) consoler... A sick person, a disabled person can become support and light for other people who suffer, in this way transforming the environment in which he lives.... With this charism, you are a gift to the Church."This brings us back to the idea that people who are suffering are needed. It is undoubtedly difficult to look upon suffering as a gift. When I think of suffering, I often think of Pope St. John Paul II, racked with Parkinson's, trying to speak to us and not being able to, although he still communicated his love for us. That was a gift to me and to many millions. All I know is that because of the ill health I have suffered throughout my life, and even during my "rebellion," I have been forced to grow and mature when I might not have done so otherwise. This illness in particular has been a steep learning curve, but I am still learning. I am learning what it is to not be able to talk properly, not feel my right side, and how when the speech center is affected your spelling goes too. (Thank God for spell checkers!) Being that I am an attorney and a teacher, this is difficult for me. I am learning what it is to be housebound, something that is not easy for me. More than anything, suffering has been a call to prayer in all of its forms. I am entering an unknown world.
So, why are we so afraid of suffering? Is suffering the worst thing there is? (I think not.) It is worth it to kill either by suicide, abortion or euthanasia, in order to avoid suffering? What happens when you avoid suffering at all costs? I think the answer, as Chelsea Zimmerman said, is that refusing to suffer is refusing to live.
"Why does hatred of suffering lead to decreased respect for human life? Because refusing to suffer is refusing the totality of living. It is a rejection of life itself.
"If anything is certain in this life it is that we all will, at some point, experience suffering. Accidents will happen; people will let us down; our bodies will deteriorate; our loved ones will fade. Suffering is part of human existence and we should reduce or ease it where we can, but eliminating it completely is not within our power. In fact, very often the more we reject and try to avoid suffering, the more we encounter it; as our ability to forebear any difficulty becomes decreased, the smaller and more insignificant trials begin to seem huge and intolerable.Read the whole thing. It's worth it. Chelsea and I also have something else in common. I long ago stopped worrying about the things I cannot change. I will make the best of it, as ugly as this prognosis is. I have the business of dying already taken care of. I have put my life in God's hands.
After all, what is the point of life but to make saints out of us. I'm certainly not one, but I want what Jesus promised us. There is no need for faith when we are in Heaven. We hope for eternal life in Heaven, and what is that but never ending love and communion with God. Because God IS Love and that equals Joy! St. Augustine said in his Confessions: “Thou hast made us for thyself, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.”
Update: More articles are coming out every day from glioblastoma patients, relatives and friends:
My Mom Has the Same Brain Cancer Diagnosis Brittany Maynard Had. She’s Fighting to Live as Long as She Can.
Dear Brittany: Our Lives Are Worth Living, Even With Brain Cancer
Young basketball player with brain disease to play ‘one last game’