February 28, 2003

“Please Do Resuscitate”

He was asked to sign a “no resuscitation order” but the old man demurred. “I was in the holocaust and fought to live because as a Jew, I believe in life. I beg you now please do resuscitate.” The young medical resident whose request he rejected was offended. Never before had any of his geriatric patients failed to sign the order. The resident turned to his attending physician for guidance and the more experienced physician looked at the old man and declared, “he looks depressed to me. Let’s call in a psychiatrist.”

This holocaust survivor swore on his deathbed to leave one more legacy to his children and grandchildren.

“Learn to value and cherish every moment of life.” He continued to repeat words he knew from childhood and which he never failed to recite each day for the very first day he learned to ready Hebrew. “So long as there is soul within me…” (Morning Blessings). Several months have passed since this episode was brought to my attention. The indomitable spirit of this old Jew has yet to be broken. It’s as if he were given a new war to fight. He clings to life and insists that he receive the benefits of the full range medical technology.

Despite the multiple problems and complexities we must deal with today, there is one particular issue that can not wait or be placed on the back burner of concern. We have all become the victims of an outrageous Hellenic philosophy which measures life by the levels of physical prowess and frankly, its disgusting. Now let me explain.

Death is not a part of life. It is not to be gloried in, nor accepted. In Tehilim, David cries out to Hashem, “What gain is there in my death when I go down to the grave? Will the dust praise you? Will it declare your truth?” (Psalms 30). Jews have long ago known that life is not expendable, negotiable, or to be determined by a meaningless criteria for a “quality of life”.

Quality of life can only be defined in very simple terms, one word, breath. Hitler exterminated the mentally handicapped (erroneously called retarded), the sightless and hearing impaired, and if you read Josef Goebbles scurrilous writings, about Jews, maintaining Jews had no quality of life, another reason they should be killed.

I know many of my physician friends would be offended by any comparison to the Nazi beasts, and by no stretch of the imagination should any comparison be made. All the doctors I know are profoundly dedicated
to their patients’ health and the prolongation of life. Like all values however, life has been subjected to abuse to a point where the most committed of people have lost sight of Judaism’s most sacred precept, the preservation of life.

In Israel, killing, most tragically has become a common experience. It is not a Jewish fault. Jews face an enemy with no respect for life. This enemy sends children to self-destruction in the hope of murdering Jews. Jews, on the other hand, place life’s preservation at the pinnacle of precepts. It can thus be understood why the physician in the Jewish past and in our contemporary milieu is held in great regard.

Should the physician whose venerated role historically has been a healer, now be the one to encourage death without an heroic attempt to save life.

I well remember this old doctor I know who asked me to witness his will. I carefully read and was particularly inspired as he instructed his children to resuscitate if his breath should stop. “I spent my life as a physician fighting for and enabling life,” he admonished his loved ones, “ so I urge you to follow along the path I have paved, fight for my life.” And the document ended with these words, “please, please resuscitate so that you and my patients will know that every breath of life

Shabbat Shalom