I am in the process of cleaning things up and beginning to post again.
I know, you missed me!
I am in the process of cleaning things up and beginning to post again.
I know, you missed me!
What a sad, shameful, society we live in when a hospital has the right (under British law) to apply to the courts to forestall further treatment for any human being…
For ten months, Charlie has been living in the intensive-care unit at Great Ormond Street Hospital in London. In March, his doctors decided that there was nothing more they could do for him, and they recommended that his parents, Connie Yates and Chris Gard, withdraw his ventilator. They refused, on the grounds that an untried experimental treatment was available in the United States. The hospital, in accordance with British law, applied to the courts to forestall further treatment. In April, the High Court found for the doctors and against the parents. In May, the Court of Appeal upheld the initial decision. In early June, the Supreme Court agreed. And this week, the European Court of Human Rights — the last court of jurisdiction — refused to intervene.
These parents only asked to be allowed to take their child to the United States for an experimental treatment. Just imagine, for a moment, if the hospitals had applied, and courts had ruled, the same way when parents wanted to treat their child who was afflicted with chicken pox, measles, polio, or some other ailment that has since passed the experimental stage and has become treatable.
I am so disgusted. I will never visit the UK, or Europe, because I do not want to give such authority to hospital administrators and court personnel who are simply looking at numbers rather than people.
No compassion, no regard for human dignity, no respect for life. As I said… Shameful.
Most holy apostle, St. Jude, faithful servant and friend of Jesus, the Church honors and invokes you universally, as the patron of hopeless cases, of things almost despaired of. Pray for Charlie Gard, he and his parents are so helpless and alone. Make use we implore you, to bring visible and speedy help where help is almost despaired of. Come to their assistance in this great need
that they may receive the consolation and help of heaven in all their necessities, tribulations, and sufferings, and that they may praise God with you and all the elect forever. We promise, O blessed St. Jude, to be ever mindful of this great favor, to always honor you as our special and powerful patron, and to gratefully encourage devotion to you. Amen.
If you have not been following the Charlie Gard case in England, you may be surprised by the turn events in that case. You see… Charlie Gard is a 10-month old child who will be put to death tomorrow because the government of England has ruled that he does not possess the right to life and he is not worth saving.
This has been in the news lately, no not the news you have probably been watching where politicians spend all their time fighting over policies they themselves will never truly enforce and for budgets they know they will not keep. This news is real news, not fake news. The value of human dignity and human life is real for every human being, not just those who the media portrays as worthy.
You can find out more about Charlie Gard by searching his name on Google, but I wanted to point out two quotes you should read regarding authorities and medical “experts” who are,
entrusted with the responsibility of extending the authority of physicians, to be designated by name, so that patients who, after a most critical diagnosis, on the basis of human judgment, are considered incurable, can be granted mercy death.
concluded, on the basis of extensive, high-quality expert evidence, that it was most likely Charlie was being exposed to continued pain, suffering and distress and that undergoing experimental treatment with no prospects of success would offer no benefit, and continue to cause him significant harm.
Oh wait, my bad. That first quote was a statement from Adolf Hitler in reference to Reich Leader Bouhler and Dr. Brandt back in 1939.
A society that fails to remember history is doomed to repeat it.
May God save us all.
The last month has been the most chaotic, heart-wrenching, emotional, time of my entire life, so please bear with me because I feel the need to get this all out.
Thirty days ago, we took my mother to the emergency room at Tanner Medical Center in Carrollton because she was coughing up some blood. Twenty-six days ago, she was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer that had metastasized in her soft tissue, adrenal gland, liver, spine, and brain. Twenty-five days ago, my mother came home from the hospital with the belief that she would have approximately three months to live without treatment, and she began to wait diligently to find out if she would test positive in a marker test for new treatment options. Twenty-four days ago, she began a series of daily radiation treatments to reduce swelling in her brain, trips that were taking more and more of her energy each day.
Fourteen days ago, my mother’s oncologist informed her that the marker tests were negative and she was not a candidate for the new treatments so her only option was traditional chemotherapy and radiation. She declined such treatment. My mother wanted quality over quantity, she wanted comfort over combat, she wanted her last days to come on her own terms, not through sterile tubing and bitter tablets. Before we walked out of the office that day we were told to start thinking in terms of weeks, not months. Thirteen days ago, Tanner Hospice showed up with all of the equipment she would need to remain comfortable and they assured us they were here for the duration. And they were.
Nine days ago, in the morning, my sister and I were making plans for her to come see our mother on June 9th, by the afternoon I was telling her that she might want to come sooner rather than later. Seven days ago my mother’s hair was beginning to fall out because she was not getting enough nutrition because the cancer was eating it all, and she asked me to shave her head. Six days ago, mom did not eat anything all day and was resistant toward taking her medications. I told my sister that she needed to come even sooner.
Five days ago, we finally got mom into the hospice bed. We needed the help of hospice and the local fire department, but we got her into the bed. Up until the night before, she resisted all attempts to get her into the hospice bed. She knew that once she went into it she was not going to come out of it. Four days ago, my sister arrived just after noon and mom was alert enough to talk to her and hold her hand. Three days ago, the hospice nurse had to increase mom’s medication because she was showing signs of increased pain. Two days ago, in the morning, mom’s breathing became more labored, and hospice told us to be ready by Sunday.
Forty-eight hours ago, I walked into mom’s room to sit with her. As I sat with her, I talked to her about all of the love we had for her. I talked about the value of the life lessons she taught me, I reminded her about some of our more memorable birding trips, I laughed about our “fierce competitions” in Words With Friends, and I then I thanked her for everything. She was the mom that God sent for my sister and I, and God doesn’t make mistakes. I walked out of her room at 5:22pm to talk to my sister for a few moments, and when I returned at 5:25pm, she was gone.
Sharon Moore Barrett (I won’t post her middle name here because she hated it), age 74, of Carrollton, Georgia, was born into eternal life on Saturday, June 3, 2017 after a brief, but courageous, battle with cancer. She was born in New Westminster, British Columbia, Canada on January 14, 1943. She was the daughter of the late William Stewart Gregg and the late Helen Ann McKechnie (Moore) Chilimpis. Sharon was retired from the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department, where she worked as a records supervisor.
Sharon immigrated to the United States with her mother and sister, Sandra, on June 7, 1944 via the Great Northern Railway at Blaine, Washington. Her mother married William Strother “Pete” Moore on September 4th, 1948, and she and her sister were adopted by Grandpa Pete on August 22, 1950. She was raised and lived most of her life in and around the Las Vegas area, including Boulder City. After her own two children she loved the LVMPD most of all. Although she retired many years ago, not a day went by without a story about her days at the old Clark County Sheriff’s Office, the merger with the Las Vegas Police Department, or the many different events with LVMPD. People will always remember her for her beautiful hair, her shrimp dip, and her pea green Mustang II that got flooded underneath the old City Hall in the 1970’s. But, we will always remember her as the best role model and friend that two children could ask for.
Survivors include one daughter, Katherine Barrett of New Albany, Indiana; one son and daughter-in-law, Michael and Joyce Barrett of Carrollton, Georgia; three grandsons, Joshua Barrett, Joseph Barrett, Jacob Barrett, of Carrollton, Georgia; as well as two nephews; three nieces, two great-nieces, and several cousins.
In addition to her parents, she was preceded in death by her adoptive father, William Strother Moore; her step-father, Thomas George Chilimpis, her sister, Sandra Ann Gove; her uncle, Robert McKechnie; and her cousin, John McKechnie.
Sharon requested no service or memorial, but did request that any donations in her memory be made to Tanner Hospice of Carrollton, Georgia at 101 Clinic Avenue, Carrollton, Georgia, 30117, specifically in support of sitter services. If hospice services had the resources for sitter service, more people could pass into eternal life in the comfort of their own homes surrounded by loved ones.