Chairman Bao is a Shih Tzu. We travel a lot. I drive. He watches. We've logged at least 10,000 miles and he's never once said, Sweetheart, don't you think you should stop and ask someone?

Sunday, September 03, 2006

Cruise's Mommy is in hospital, in Intensive Care.
Cruise is a beagle. He's also Bao's best friend. His Mommy, Morag, is one of my best friends.
We met when I lived in Florida, where they still live. After I moved to Arizona, we kept in touch, talking on the phone a couple of times a week.
Morag and I have a lot in common. We're both feisty old birds, and we're both pretty much alone in the world -- no husband, no children, no grandchildren, no family at all, really. We used to walk Cruise and Bao together mornings and afternoons, and the four of us made it thorugh several hurricanes together, with laughter and doggie treats and plenty of Pinot Grigio. I was trying to talk her into moving to Arizona when she got sick.
Cruise is with a neighbor. They won't let him visit Morag in hospital, of course. Dogs aren't allowed in hospitals.
This is Morag's worst nightmare, and mine too.
Not being sick -- everyone gets sick. Not even dying. We agreed, We can handle dying. What we can't handle (and what we don't want to handle) is being separated from our beloved dogs. In fact, we even took out special insurance policies that provide for medical care at home, just to avoid a situation like this. Theoretically, we're supposed to get everything we need, delivered to our doorstep; round-the-clock nurses, equipment, the whole enchilada.
Trouble is, when you're lying there in hospital with nobody to speak up for you, who makes it happen?
Not the guy who sold you the insurance.
Not your friends.
Not even your lawyer.
Once they've got you, the doctors don't have to listen to anybody. They can do as they please and they can keep you there as long as they like. Even if you've legally designated someone to make medical decisions on your behalf , that person has got to be there, and that person has also got to be confident enough to stand up for you want, even when the doctors say that to comply with your wishes might kill you. (Which they will) In real life, up close and personal, not many of us are game to bite that particular bullet.
What does Morag want? I know she wants Cruise. (She probably also wants a glass of wine)
But she can't have either of those things. It doesn't seem fair, not at all. A convicted serial killer gets a last meal, anything his heart desires. Yet a desperately ill woman who never did anything bad to anyone is being denied the comfort of her beloved companion at her side, just because he happens to have four legs and a tail.
You know what? I think it stinks.

2 Comments:

Blogger Dogwalkmusings said...

It does indeed "stink" and I hear your frustration loud and clear. Any chance we "old" bloggers can initiate change?

Your friend will be in our prayers. Keep us posted. A lot of us out here care when one of "ours" is hurting.

12:34 PM

 
Blogger Betty said...

I think it "stinks", too. Here's hoping you friend will see her companion very soon.

1:42 PM

 

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