Spoiler alert: Medicare is imperfect and so is your physician. Those are just two of the takeaways from Katy Butler's "Knocking on Heaven's Door: The Path to a Better Way of Death." Butler whipstitches together a personal story of family, life and loss, with a troubling but informative assessment of current medical practices and American cultural norms that surround end-of-life issues.
I first encountered Butler's writing on the subject in a New York Times article in 2010 called "What Broke My Father's Heart." She laid out the multitude of personal and medical issues as her parents entered their 80s - a sudden health crisis of her father's that ultimately laid the groundwork for his years-long decline - stroke, heart disease, dementia, blood clots, brain hemorrhage. She explained how our current system more often than not intentionally draws out the process of dying. Medication, surgical interventions, technology - all of these things led to the shell of the man she knew as her father, simultaneously saving and dooming him. She also lovingly describes the impact his years-long dying had on her mother, who became a round-the-clock caregiver, bather, cook, cleaner and diaper changer.
What stood out most to me, what I took away from that article, is explained more fully in "Knocking on Heaven's Door." That for many, many of us, being forced to make a split second decision in a medical emergency will likely lead to a much longer path of disease, decline, and pain. Your mother has a heart attack? "If you don't agree to a breathing tube/feeding tube/CPR/pacemaker RIGHT NOW, she will die, and it will be because you LET her." Few of us are capable of knowing all what should be known to make truly informed decisions about and for our loved ones - we just know we don't want to let her die in front of us, before the rest of the family can be told there's a decision to make, much less have the chance to say goodbye.
And so I found myself nodding in recognition and understanding of what being part of this sorority of caregivers means. My family was in a similar spot. My mother had entered a hospital in May of 2008 to begin dialysis treatment for kidney disease, which had been treated to that point with medication. She did not return to her home until May of 2009. An endless list of crises emerged: A slip and fall in the hospital, compound fracture, infection, sepsis, endocarditis, MRSA, multiple temporary dialysis ports, cardiac arrest, three temporary pacemakers, one permanent pacemaker, atrophy, neglect, gangrene, amputation, three hospitals, and three skilled nursing facilities. Through the "wonders" of modern medicine, amazing strength on her part and dogged determination on our part, she finally returned home to her husband of nearly 50 years. Meanwhile, I racked up over $20,000 in airfare and expenses, flying back and forth between Hartford, Connecticut and Ft. Myers, Florida to handle the crises as they came. It was like a long distance game of Whack-a-Mole - you smack one down with a mallet, and another pops up over there. I used up all paid time off, and exhausted FMLA benefits. Ultimately, I put them on a plane to their native Michigan, sold their house in Florida, and joined them several months later, leaving a career and friends behind me on the east coast.
The thing about books like this, at least for an average layperson like me, is that I didn't even know they existed. I knew next to nothing about any of my mother's health issues, and even less about Medicare and its rules. Or how to navigate the system. Or how to advocate for a family member. Or the importance of a medical quarterback. I didn't know I needed that kind of information, certainly not in advance of the "iceberg, right ahead!"
But the initial article opened my eyes (mostly in horror) at what might further face us in the future. And why I was so glad to learn that the author was expanding on the article and working on a book. Butler's style of storytelling feels natural and warm. Her research into the professional health care field and the personal and societal costs are well-presented, and her conclusions are reasoned and imparted with empathy.
I hope those who need this book find it before they tumble into the rabbit hole of end-of-life care. Her article in 2010 allowed our family to talk about the pitfalls that may face us in the future, and how we would want to proceed if x, y or z happened with either parent. Her article came two years before my mother's death, and it brought both comfort and clarity when we had difficult decisions to make. If you're a daughter (or son), or you're a mother (or father), use this as an opportunity to open a conversation with your loved ones. It's just one more way to care for each other.

