While sitting in the conference room discussing the final step in my grandfather’s life… and by conference room I mean, the lobby by the elevators, the nurse asked my mother if he had an Advanced Directive. “No,” was her reply. Actually, it went something more like this:
Mother: No… but I’m making the decision to not resuscitate; He’s 93, he doesn’t know where he is and just sleeps all day.
Me: (eyeballs wide, eyebrows twisted)
Nurse: OK, so we’ll change the code to a DNR.
Me: Like that? That’s all it takes? You just making the decision for him??
Mother: Rochelle, he has no quality of life…..
Me: (in agreement but surprised) But you want all heroic measures for you??
Mother: I’m only 69 years old….
Me: Do you have an advanced directive?
Mother: I don’t but I have a will and it says take all necessary precautions.
Me: So in other words, I can still override that choice?
Mother: (self-doubting) You’ll tell whomever is in charge that I want all heroic measures taken.
Me: Well, you better as sister because after this little conversation, it seems I’d be the judge of that.
Nurse: So we’re good with changing the code then.