The starvation/dehydration death of Terri Schiavo, which dominated the news during Holy Week and right up until the death of Pope John Paul II, introduced into the public vernacular a term previously limited primarily to the medical profession and bioethicists — “persistent vegetative state” (PVS).
PVS is a term first coined in 1972 to describe patients who are not in a coma or considered to be brain dead, but nevertheless appear to have no cognitive brain function. In a study published in 1994 by the Multi-Society Task Force (MTSF) on PVS, the MTSF concluded that patients in PVS show no evidence of awareness or thinking, and do not communicate. None of their actions appear purposeful, learned or voluntary. Most patients in PVS continue to breathe on their own, circulate blood normally, have periods of waking and sleeping, may move their limbs, smile, shed tears and respond to external stimuli. Some may grunt, groan or scream.
PVS can be caused by acute brain injury, chronic degenerative disease, or developmental malformations. The injury or disease often results in profound damage to, if not complete destruction of, the cerebral cortex — the region of the brain believed to be responsible for all higher, cognitive functioning. Because of the cerebral cortex damage the MTSF in its report stated that PVS patients are “noncognitive, nonsentient, and incapable of conscious experience.”
Although one would think that “noncognitive, nonsentient” patients “incapable of conscious experience” would be considered, for all practical purposes, already dead, the law does not use the PVS diagnosis as a definition of death. And for good reason. The medical profession, as in the case of Terri Schiavo, does not always agree on the diagnosis. And sometimes, as in the case of Kate Adamson, the vegetative diagnosis is inaccurate.
In 1995, 33-year-old Adamson, a housewife and mother of two toddlers, suffered a double brainstem stroke that left her completely paralyzed. For almost 70 days she was totally unresponsive. Her doctors, assuming that her cognitive capabilities were gone, pulled a feeding tube that had been inserted earlier. They just ripped it out, the way Terri Schiavo’s feeding tube was ripped out, because the doctors believed the paralyzed Adamson was “nonsentient.”
They were wrong. In an interview with Bill O’Reilly of television’s The O’Reilly Factor in November of 2003, Adamson, now recovered from her misdiagnosed “vegetative” state, described the feeding tube removal as “sheer torture.” She also talked of the “hunger pains” during the eight days she was disconnected from her feeding tube.
Adamson now feeds herself, runs her family, is a motivational speaker, and has written a book, Kate's Journey: Triumph Over Adversity. Unlike Terri Schiavo, her feeding tube was reinstalled, and she received aggressive rehabilitation.
The life-saving difference between Kate and Terri was Kate’s husband, Steven Klugman. Unlike Michael Schiavo, Klugman didn’t believe his wife was in a vegetative state, and when the doctors disconnected her, Klugman, a lawyer, yelled, screamed, and threatened to sue them. In his own words: “I threatened to sue the whole world, and I told them that their best course was to try to save her, and maybe they wouldn't get sued.”
Unlike Terri’s husband, Kate’s husband fought for her life. And that was the crucial difference.
When Kate Adamson appeared on The O’Reilly Factor two years ago, she appeared as an advocate for Terri Schiavo’s life. Last month she again witnessed on behalf of saving the disabled Florida woman, this time testifying before the Florida House Judiciary Committee. She began her testimony with this statement:
“They wanted me to die. They did. They told my husband it would be better for him to let me go. It would be better for the children to let me go. They said it would be better for me.
“I was unable to move — just lying there. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even blink my eyes. But I was alive! I could hear every word they were saying. ‘Shall we unplug her? Remove life support? We could just let her go. She will be out of her misery and we can go home.’ And they were saying all this within five feet of my bed. Were they inconsiderate? Calloused? No. They considered me comatose — unconscious, a vegetable — carrots don’t have feelings.”
Adamson’s efforts on behalf of Terri Schiavo proved unsuccessful. While Michael Schiavo’s lawyer, euthanasia activist George Felos, described to the media the peace and tranquility of Terri’s death process, Father Frank Pavone and members of the Schindler family gathered at Terri’s bedside. In a recent email from Priests for Life, Father Pavone described Terri’s “death process” as “quite horrifying. She was dehydrating to death, and looked it. Her face had an expression of dread and sorrow. In my 16 years as a priest, I never saw anything like it before.”
Though they shared similar disabilities, Kate’s and Terri’s lives, thanks to their husbands, went in different directions. Terri Schiavo is now a martyr to the Culture of Death. Kate Adamson speaks eloquently as a witness to the Culture of Life, as evidenced by her closing remarks before the Florida House Judiciary Committee:
“They have already come for me and I am still here,” she said. “Now, mind you, no one meant me any harm. Yet the good wishes of the foolish and the evil can bring death.
“The measure of a society is how they treat the least of us. What we do to the helpless marks our souls forever. What we allow to happen to the disabled labels us forever. You have heard me. Could you, as a panel, kill me?”
Ken Concannon is a freelance writer from All Saints Parish in Manassas, VA.
(This article courtesy of the Arlington Catholic Herald.)
