A recent conversation made me ponder the perception of quality of life. A friend told me how, when doctors encouraged a DNR (do not resuscitate) along with palliative care - after his 89-year old father suffered a stroke and developed sepsis (a whole body infection) - the decision was: "No DNR: my father's a Holocaust survivor. He's a fighter. He wants to live". Although advised that Sepsis can cause lasting damage, my pal and his sister were in agreement: keep Dad alive. Sepsis was treated but took it's toll: Dad was left without speech, paralyzed on his left side and with Dementia. I shuddered inwardly. What kind of life is that? For my pal and his sis, there was no question it was the right decision. "Dad smiles, loves hugs, happy to see us. True, he can't speak, but we find ways to communicate. We're happy."
I can't help but think I'd have tried to influence that decision toward DNR. Made me think I should be more respectful of the fact that we each have our own perception of life and its quality.