when you're too far gone, how far do you have to be before you let go?

The closest I've ever been to having a child slip away from me is when I put my cat down when she was dying of cancer.  She needed to be put out of her misery.   

So, I don't know what it's like to have a child, since I am child-free.  Therefore, all you mamas and papas out there can hate me for asking these questions.  I know you have a very tough job (if you're doing it right, that is) but of course I have no idea what the parent-child bond does to you.

So, if your kid is so sick and you feel you can't do anything more to help him and science can't do any better, when do you let him go and just allow the natural course to take over?   

When the sickness is not an immediate terminal physical condition, but mental, would you change your answer? 

Let's say it's a mental illness that is untreatable by drugs and therapy because the sick person won't allow himself to be treated and that in itself is part of the sickness.  An illness that can cause harm to others (i.e. Virginia Tech murderer). 

When your kid is in a coma and being kept alive by a machine and you hope and pray for his eventual recovery, is that the same thing as having a kid who is being kept alive by a battery of 30 medications each day, which aren't working so he doesn't have any quality of life?  Would you consider pulling the plug in either case?   Or do you hold out for a scientific breakthrough?

I ask you because this is a question I cannot ask my parents.   I am getting closer to giving up hope on my [grown adult] brother's potential to return to some kind of "normal" life, but, my parents aren't, because they're the dad and the mom.

Bro has reached a place from which he will never return.  He's terminally, mentally ill and it will only get more painful and worse for everyone. 

If it were me in the sick bed, I wouldn't want them to give up on me.   I wouldn't want them to stop fighting for me, and fighting the fucked up system.  But I also wouldn't want to put them or anyone else in danger.  But I wouldn't know that I was putting anyone in danger because of my sickness. And if I were heavily sedated, day in and day out, drained from fighting the horrible voices within, why be chained to the earth in a constant state of nothingness? 

When do you decide it's time to let go and put a child out of his misery?  Rather, just let misery totally take over and see what happens?

It's a serious question, but, rest assured I'm not considering putting any person out of his/her misery, not even myself.  I mean, come on, I thrive on my own misery.

Comments

[jo]

Firstly, let me say I'm not a parent. My parents had to pull the plug on my sister though. And I'm fairly certain it was the worst thing they've ever had to do. My father told me after the fact that you're not supposed to outlive your children and watching her take in that last breath was unbearable. But they also knew she was gone and no machine was bringing her back. (She had had leukemia and then a bone marrow transplant but it never took and her body was fighting itself until she died.) That being said, my mom and I later discussed Terri Schaivo and I discovered that if I were in that persistent vegitative state, she'd keep me there so my parents are now not my medical decision makers. I wouldn't want to be like that and I wouldn't want to force them to make that choice for me.

Further, it really seems to vary from parent to parent. My mom's best friend has a son who is schizophrenic and doesn't do anything about it. He breaks into the house and steals things. He self medicates with drugs and alcohol. He's been homeless. He has lived with them. As far as I know they've tried everything they can to help him. They've paid for multiple rehabs and times in the mental hospital. The mom won't give up on him. The dad won't let him in the house or near the mom anymore. He's had to do that to protect her and himself and their daughter and her kids.

And, when my sister was sick I was in your shoes. I was staying at my sister's house taking care of her kids while she received her bone marrow transplant and while her husband worked and went back and forth to another state to visit her. And when she returned I tried so hard to be there and be helpful but ultimately I had to call my father to come get me. It got too hard for me. She had chemo brain which made her nuts. She was taking a lot of meds which were making her nuts and I hated her husband, so I walked away. I refuse to feel guilty about it. I could've done more and stayed there with them and then even moved to South Carolina (where they moved shortly after I left) with them to help them out, but I couldn't do it. About a year and a half later she tried to kill herself because her husband (who I hated) was divorcing her. My mom ended up out there and spent over a year. My mom asked me to go there and take care of my sister, to give up my job and my life a second time and go there. I refused. And I refuse to feel guilty about it. I did what was right for me at the time. There comes a point where ultimately you have to take care of you and if doing so means you have no contact with your brother then that's what you should do.

(Woah, I didn't mean to post an entire novel in a comment.)

[blaugra]

Wow, Jo. Thanks for sharing your novel - it does really help to know about your experiences. I'm sorry about your sister.

I separated myself from my brother a long time ago - or tried to. I didn't even have him at my wedding, a fact that he and my parents remind me of often (it was my day dammit and I wasn't about to have any schizo alcoholic ruin my open bar party)

But it's the parents... and I do almost anything for my parents. That's my conflict. And no matter how many months brother spends in jail, no matter how many people he harms, how much he drinks, how much money his treatment costs - they will welcome him into their house, and they will say that "You need to hate the disease and not the sick person."

They will tell me that they can't spend Thanksgiving with me knowing that he is alone, and why don't I invite him over also? When I hate being in the same room with him.

But along with all this I'm trying to look at the situation from a distance because it's easier for me to try to solve problems for other people than it is my own.

Wow this whole thing is turning into a a whole lotta therapy!

[Peeved Michelle]

If it were as simple as being able to stop futile treatments as someone drifted off toward death, or pulling the plug on someone who is already functionally dead, I would treat a child with a terminal mental illness the same way that I would treat a child with a terminal physical illness. In reality, you know that the difference is that "letting someone go" who has a mental illness just means that it gets worse for them and for everyone else and since they are physically healthy, it could go on a for a long time. After a reasonable amount of time and effort, I would give up hope of finding effective treatments that could return the person to a normal life and would focus on what can be done to keep the person out of harm's way and from harming others, even if that meant involuntary commitment and sedation for the rest of that person's life.

[Tom Guarriello]

I like Peeved Michelle's logic a lot. When "letting go" means not taking the call from the police at 4 AM, it's an awful lot to ask of a family. Not that hanging up at 4 is less loving, only way more resolute than most of us can be. Holding ourselves to a standard of "perfection" on these things is very harsh. Recognizing the circumstances under which you will/will not respond is a valuable use of a family's time. This affirms everyone's choices and lets others know when you might need help in maintaining your resolve.

I'm so sorry your family is facing these painful moments, Laura.