Your Right To Die

Stage-four brain cancer. There’s really no hope at all. Words and phrases like “terminal” and “expected chance of living” are thrown around in a casual way. Pain; excruciating pain twenty-four hours a day. All you want is peace. Peace from the pain and the situation you’ve been stuck in for several months. The medication stopped working long ago. Now you’re just waiting for the inevitable end to come. Your only request is to die in the way you desire. Request denied.

Physician-assisted suicide, more commonly known as euthanasia, is a controversial issue for many reasons. Only four out of fifty states in America (Montana, Oregon, Texas and Washington) have passed bills in favor of physician-assisted suicide, or PAS. All of the bills in these states were passed in the last ten years, titling the initiatives the “Death for Dignity Acts”. The subject of physician-assisted suicide has always been incredibly fascinating to me because of its large controversy and the statements we hear concerning it on the news.

Words like “rights” and “suicide” have always and probably will continue to have a powerful affect on the American people. When we hear news broadcasts or read articles, you’d be hard-pressed to find a story that doesn’t include those two words. It’s the wordplay that’s important in controversial issues such as this one. Because physician-assisted suicide is such an incredibly touchy subject, it’s not so surprising to hear extremes on either standpoint.

The four states to have passed these “Death with Dignity Acts” (and other citizens in the other states) claim that terminally ill patients have the right to die in the way they wish. In fact, there was a study done by Harris Interactive in 2005 that showed the results that 70% of adults were in favor of  passing a law that allows doctors to comply with the patient, if he or she is in terminal distress, to have their life ended. They argue that if the patient is terminal, with no chance of survival, they should have the choice of how their “chapter of life” closes.

The other side of this states that it’s suicide, regardless of how you put it. They state that keeping them alive with “competent care” is more humane than physician-assisted suicide. Another argument claims that if PAS is legalized, it will result in society undermining the respect for the sanctity of life; giving someone the chance in how they will end their life is inhumane and goes against what we strive for in life.

Clearly, you all didn’t think you’d escape a blog of mine without hearing my opinion on this, did you? Didn’t think so. Here’s my take on it: I think that many people who are against PAS think that what these terminally-ill patients are doing is committing suicide because of whatever reason they’re claiming. Terminally-ill has a very specific meaning. It means you’re not going to live. And, if you’re not going to live, then I think that the right for your decision on how to die should be up to you. The other side claims that it’s inhumane and that it’s disrespecting the sanctity of life. However, granting these human beings the right to pass on in a way they wish seems to me to be truly humane and is respect in the highest regard. Granted, these are just one girl’s musings. A loud-mouth’s musings, but musings nonetheless.

Works Cited

Boer, Theo A. "Recurring Themes in the Debate About Euthanasia and Assisted Suicide." Journal of Religious Ethics 35.3 (2007): 529-555. Religion and Philosophy Collection. EBSCO. Web. 17 May 2010.

Gill, Michael B. "Is the Legalization of Physician-Assisted Suicide Compatible with Good End-of-Life Care?." Journal of Applied Philosophy 26.1 (2009): 27-45. Academic Search Premier. EBSCO. Web. 17 May 2010.

Harris Interactive. "Physician-Assisted Suicide: Compassionate Liberation or Murder?." MEDSURG Nursing 19.2 (2010): 121-125. Academic Search Premier. EBSCO. Web. 17 May 2010.

"Son of a BITCH!"

It’s this world they live in; this horrible, dreadful world they live in. Though, this isn’t to say why foul language is thrown around the way it is, but it’s important for us to understand where they come from. They live in a world where things that go “bump in the night” are real. Where Lucifer has risen and people they love have died. Hell, they’ve watched the people they love die. Sometimes by their own hands; naturally against their will. That’s what they’ve been told. It’s all for the good of the world. An angel told them that. An angel in a trench coat tells them what to do, though these two brothers don’t always follow his orders. One of the brothers (the older one) constantly speaks in a manner that would make the generations before them cringe with anxiety.

Welcome to the world of Supernatural.

Or, more appropriately, the language that exists on the show.

For those of us who are familiar with the show (and, if you aren’t, get into it strictly for Jensen Ackles), maybe you can agree with me on the development of the language on the show. Now, I’ve never been naïve enough to believe that the two boys speak with eloquence and avoid all types of vulgar language (however that’s defined), but it’s seemed to me that, over the last couple of seasons in particular, they’ve become a bit riskier with the level of bad language on the show. Television shows in the past decade have kept to the guidelines given to them, but it seems that more and more often, we’re getting these television shows that are pushing the metaphorical envelope.

It first started on Supernatural (or, when I first noticed it, rather) when Dean (the older brother) called Castiel (the angel) a dick. Naturally, they’ve got a unique relationship because most of the angels, as Dean so maturely calls them, are dicks. But, I remember watching the episode for the first time and doing a double-take. It wasn’t familiar to hear the word on the show. And I would know; I’ve seen the show from the beginning. Fast-forward a couple of weeks later and, again from Dean’s mouth do you hear the word “douche”. Now, if you are a fan of the show, you know the language almost always comes from Dean (not that I mind), but up until then, I hadn’t thought that the language would be challenged into “dangerous territory”, I guess you could call it.

After that point, it seems to me that the show just kind of took off the filter for language (however, they do keep away from the “taboo” words). Dean has always had his famous catchphrase: “Son of a bitch!”, but it began to be used far more often. Phrases that followed were remarks like, “We’ll look into Sam and Dean’s homoerotic dependency”, “Eat it, Twilight”, and “I’ve been rehymenated”. All of these phrases stray to the more sexual side of language, however many people would call it bad, so I’m throwing it in there.

The history of inappropriate language on television has changed so much just in the last decade, however I can’t really be bothered by it. I think that if it’s not just there to be there (all of those Rob Zombie movies, if you’re looking for an example), and it’s mixed well into the scene and plot of the show, then the language is fine. Personally speaking, Dean’s language is part of what makes Dean who he is. He’s the major bad-ass with an impossible task assigned to him. If he lets off steam every now and then with language, then I say let the writers do so. For me, at least, his “Son of a bitch!” makes me laugh every time.

I Belong WHERE?

“The only thing that I have ever successfully made in the kitchen is a mess. And several little fires.” –Sarah Jessica Parker, Sex in the City

I’d known this guy almost my entire life. There had been that one, tragically strange moment where I almost dated his brother, but that’s all hearsay. He (the other guy; not the almost-boyfriend) was kind and wonderful and sweet. He was the kind of guy that you thought, “Okay, they don’t altogether exist in real-life, but I’m lucky enough to know someone like him”. The entire family has enlisted in the military. It’s kind of been their thing and I’ve always been incredibly impressed and proud to say that I know them. First it was the almost-boyfriend that enlisted in the Navy and then it was him. He enlisted in the Marines. This sweet, charming, amazing guy who I had known forever enlisted in the Marines. Pride isn’t a word that fits for what I felt for him.

Fast-forward eight months.

He had left for training and then come back for visits. Who came back was not who left. He’d completely changed. And, not in the good way. I remember one specific example with stark clarity. I was at church (we had met at church, you see) and I was reading (because I’m literally always reading something). I had gotten there early, so when he walked in I was all smiles and hugs and “How are you; I missed you!”. It was all very nice, I remember thinking. So, I resumed reading and that had led to questions about what I was reading. Now, at the time, it was a Nicholas Sparks book of some kind. Let me pause here to explain that I’m not a “love at first sight” kind of girl, but damn that man can write love in a way that is borderline cheesy and cliché that makes me cry every time. So, anyway, he’s telling me how he finished all of the books he had during training and I’m telling him to come over and get any of my books he wants and then he says it: “I’m not reading anything that has a woman who’s not in the kitchen”.

My face closely resembled those emoticon faces; this one – O_O.

This was not the boy I had known my entire life. He was different and I sat there, my eyes wide and my mouth open from shock for a few seconds. Because, he knew I was a feminist at heart (and in action, really), but he decided to say what he had anyway. It had shocked me because I had people in my life who had enlisted in the Marines and they hadn’t changed that way at all. But, this guy that was just so sweet and kind had transformed into Megatron or something of the sort. Almost immediately after he’d made the comment, he’d turned his attention to the other people in the room, effectively ending the conversation; or so he’d thought. Naturally, I don’t settle for nonsense like that, so I spoke up.

“I’m sorry, it sounds like you just insulted women in front of me. You wanna retract your statement before I say something that you’re not gonna like?” I’m fairly certain, mostly because of the surprised look on his face, that he hadn’t expected me to say anything back. Which, is sort of completely ridiculous because he’d known who I was before he went off to Marine training. I remember sitting there, looking at him with expectant eyes. However, he just continued to look at me, half-confused, half-indignant. Now, because I’m hugely mature, I took the high road and rose off of the couch and left the room. Though, not before I looked over my shoulder and left with a biting remark. “Just because you’re in the Marines, doesn’t give you the excuse to speak to me in that way. Oh, and by the way, I burn things whenever I cook.”

Find Out What It Means To Me

“If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you gonna love somebody else?” –RuPaul Charles

It’s all about respect, isn’t it? How many times have we heard that in our lives? “Respect your elders” or “respect your mother and father”. These, of course, are true. But what about respect for yourself? And is it more important than happiness in life? Or rather, is happiness the most important thing, self-respect be damned? You’d think I would wrestle with this question, but in all actuality, it took me point-five seconds to come up with a clear answer. Happiness, for me, isn’t nearly as important as having self-respect. Let me explain, ladies and gentleladies.

It’s easy to live with happiness in your life. If we’re lucky, we grow up with good parents and a good home with good friends. These things make us happy. We then find things like good music and good books and good hobbies. More happiness. But, what happens if you don’t have any place in your “happy” life for self-respect? Now, I had the good  parents, good home, and good friends, which were then followed by good music, good books and good hobbies. But, these things weren’t what made me happy. Well, okay. They made me happy because good things generally make people happy (who doesn’t like good music?), but they weren’t at the core of my happiness. What made me most happy was that I knew who I was. However, if you’re familiar with my blogs by now, you’ll know that this isn’t all of what my life was about. No, I was not always happy with who I was; no self-respect and all that.

Now, it wasn’t any kind of overly dramatic (I know; strange, right?) moment where I realized that I sucked in general and my entire life was fail. It was just one of those moments where I realized that I was living my life for others and not for myself. Simply because I didn’t think enough of myself to worry about that specific “wrong” in my life. I cared more for the people around me; thought more of the people around me. However, it occurred to me then (in high school, if you were wondering) that I wasn’t less. No, I happened to be worth something. It was then, in a very dramatic unveiling, that I realized how much I didn’t suck and how I didn’t fail in general. It was, as you can imagine, a pretty nice feeling.

So, I took stock of my life (in as big a way as I could, being fifteen) and realized that I enjoyed all of the “good” things, but they didn’t bring me true happiness. Having a constant respect for who I was made me truly happy. I didn’t need the “good” things because they weren’t who I was, if that makes any sense. It’s way more important for me to respect who I am rather than have happiness. Because, in its truest form, if you have self-respect, you’ll find happiness.