"Do we want to give your father a medicine that will slow the progression of his Alzheimer's disease?" It won't provide improvement, but, it will slow things down.
A no-brainer, this particular question had been anticipated and discussed.
It was decided that,of course we wouldn't do anything to prolong this disease. If Dad was capable of making this decision, he would say no medication. Right?
The problem with hypothetical discussions is they are hypothetical. Hardwired within all of us is a grasping desire to hold on for as long as we can. Chronic invalids who say, "no extreme measures, don't keep me alive on a machine." Living wills created, distributed to family members. And yet when push comes to shove, we shove back as hard as we can. That breathless nod saying " Yes, give me all the damn help you can. I want to live."
There is also a willingness to let go. The time when someone gently releases their grip and simply expires. I like that word, it sounds like a soft sigh. He died sounds hard. He expired, sounds better to me.
But this isn't about me, it's about my Dad. Would he say," I don't know my children anymore, I can't read or comprehend new things but, I still like to have a beer at 4:00 and I love my dog. That's good enough for me. I could stay here for awhile." Or "This sucks. I'm not me anymore. I want out as fast as I can."
I don't know. I can guess. My intuition says the man who managed to stay alive through the Korean War, through 35 years as a cop, through 29 years of a miserable marriage, who had ample opportunity to check out but chose instead the numbing path of alcoholism, would say" Yeah, it sucks, so what else is new? I'll take the medication."
He won't be starting that course of treatment....
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