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The effects of suicide on our society
The option of assisted suicide
The effects of suicide on our society
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The second Sodapop and I went through the front door on Friday evening, I just threw myself at my dad's window chair and closed my eyes without bothering to take off my coat, work shoes, or even the tool belt. My mind was in an overdrive as I sat with my chin in my hand, watching the street through the open curtains. "Then I saw something that made my mind (and heart) stop completely: the blue Corvair stopped at the parking lot at the end of our street, and what looked like a group of Socs was crowded with something that lay on the sidewalk.""Soda ...?" I called through the screen door, I knew that he and Steve saw a Corvair, they were silent and looked down the street ... I hung my tool belt next to Soda's jacket and came out for a better
“I wanted to get out and walk eastward toward the park through the soft twilight but each time I tried to go I became entangled in some wild strident argument which pulled me back, as if with ropes, into my chair. Yet high over the city our line of yellow windows must have contributed their share of human secrecy to the casual watcher in the darkening streets, and I was him too, looking up and wondering. I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.
Four months prior to Kirk’s attempted carbon monoxide poisoning, a suicide attempt best described as an inchoate suicide, he attempted a para suicide. This first attempt was made through chasing a handful of Percocet with a bottle of whisky shortly after sending a suicidal text message to his sister. Kirk became sick from the mixture and ended up being taken to the hospital by his sister, shortly after consuming the cocktail of pills and alcohol. This suicide pursuit resulted in having his stomach pumped and a referral written for psychiatric help. Prior to this course, I was not enlightened towards the concept of para-suicide. Though, I had considered that some individuals attempt suicide without the intention of ending their life, I remained unaware that there was a substantial amount of knowledge and understanding about what para suicides are. In the same way, acquiring knowledge about the many forms of suicide has helped me understand the significant differences between Kirk’s attempts.
There is great debate in this country and worldwide over whether or not terminally ill patients who are experiencing great suffering should have the right to choose death. A deep divide amongst the American public exists on the issue. It is extremely important to reach an ethical decision on whether or not terminally ill patients have this right to choose death, since many may be needlessly suffering, if an ethical solution exists.
In her paper entitled "Euthanasia," Phillipa Foot notes that euthanasia should be thought of as "inducing or otherwise opting for death for the sake of the one who is to die" (MI, 8). In Moral Matters, Jan Narveson argues, successfully I think, that given moral grounds for suicide, voluntary euthanasia is morally acceptable (at least, in principle). Daniel Callahan, on the other hand, in his "When Self-Determination Runs Amok," counters that the traditional pro-(active) euthanasia arguments concerning self-determination, the distinction between killing and allowing to die, and the skepticism about harmful consequences for society, are flawed. I do not think Callahan's reasoning establishes that euthanasia is indeed morally wrong and legally impossible, and I will attempt to show that.
One day when John Ferguson was following Madeleine, he saw her jump into San Francisco Bay. After he rescued her, he brought her back to his house and cared for her. Afterwards he and Madeleine started to spend time together. They began to fall in love and Madeleine became more insane. She started to see images from Corlata's past. Madeleine started to live the life of Corlata Valdez and had visions from her life. One day John and Madeleine went to an old Spanish missionary outside San Francisco, which Madeleine had seen in one of her images. When they arrived at their destination Madeleine began to remember things from Corlata's early life and became hyster...
Huge purple, grape-like masses are what a man named Richard Chinn saw under a patient's chin when he went to work for a hospital. This patient was diagnosed with cancer, and those huge masses were the cancerous tumor. When this man would eat, the cancerous growth would start collecting food, of whatever he didn't swallow quickly. When it would start growing to about grapefruit size, or larger, the doctors would amputate it. However, this did not do much justice, because the growth would just come back. Amputation after amputation made the patient very uneasy and want to end his life. He and his family numerously asked doctors to put him out of his misery, and even went to court, but he was still told "no." There was no more point to this man's life, he was suffering miserably and the cancer would never go away. Eventually he came down with ammonia, and instead of trying to revive him, they finally let him have his peace (Chinn). If Euthanasia was legal, then this suffering man could have ended his pain early, but due to complications in the legal system, his life was drug out too long.
Today's society is now introduced to one of the most controversial issues; assisted suicide. Just like in other controversial arguments, there are many people that feel that it is wrong for people to ask their healthcare provider to end one's life; while others feel that if the person is terminally ill and has given their will to die, that they can be assisted in suicide. Though both sides are reasonable many people believe that people should not take part in helping someone take their own life, assisted suicide should be legal because, it plays a factor of conquering one’s feelings, gives an option to those whom are terminally ill or in immense pain, and every human
disease that Stephen Hawking has) 5 years ago. This is a condition that destroys motor nerves, making control of movement impossible, while the mind is virtually unaffected. People with motor neurone disease normally die within 4 years of diagnosis from suffocation due to the inability of the inspiratory muscles to contract. The woman's condition has steadily declined. She is not expected to live through the month, and is worried about the pain that she will face in her final hours. She asks her doctor to give her diamorphine for pain if she begins to suffocate or choke. This will lessen her pain, but it will also hasten her death. About a week later, she falls very ill, and is having trouble breathing.
The right to die has raised many legal and ethical issues in the United States. We as a society rely on doctors in time of agony and discomfort because we believe in their healing capabilities. So when doctors deviate from the preservation of life and promote death, it creates an imbalance between what is ethical and what is best for the patient. The general rule of palliative care is to treat and care for patients, but when those patients are in a considerable amount of pain, should they not have the right to a choose their course of treatment? In this great nation, the greatest liberty that we have as humans is to live and die in our own right in accordance with our personal beliefs and free will.
It was a beautiful night. It was perfect for a walk. As I strolled further into the park a figure approached me. It was as dark as pitch so I couldn’t make out who it was. It was late; you wouldn’t usually see anyone at this time. My heart was beating faster and faster. The strange thing was I wasn’t frightened; it was just my heart beating rapidly. As the masculine figure approached, I began to walk slower. That was when I heard the voice.
More than 5 years ago, I found myself in the exact same position that Susan Wolf had found herself in with her father. In my case, it was the end of life care for an elderly aunt who had no other family and as such, became a part of mine. She was my ward in a way, fully reliant and dependent on me in so many ways due to her advanced age. I thought that she was a very healthy person and could possibly go on living forever since she was under constant medical care. But all the medical care that the doctors could provide for her could not remove the nagging pains that seemed to be ravaging her fast aging body.
Can you single out just one day from your past that you can honestly say changed your life forever? I know I can. It was a typical January day, with one exception; it was the day the Pope came to St. Louis. My brother and I had tickets to the youth rally, and we were both very excited. It was destined to be an awesome day- or so we thought. The glory and euphoria of the Papal visit quickly faded into a time of incredible pain and sorrow, a time from which I am still emerging.
Pedaling my bike, I swerved left and right, dodging all sorts of trash which littered the desolate ground beneath my feet. The car was gaining ground fast; its ebony visage glaring at me like some hell-spawned demon. A cold clammy hand seemed to envelope my body. I knew I could not escape.
The street is quiet, and seems like it is dead. The sounds I can hear are the leaves rustling in the breeze, and the pitter-patter sounds of raindrops falling on the ground. Together, they compose a brilliant song of nature. No din from the high-school students, no irritating noise from the car. No one, not even a soul dares to make a sound to disturb this moment. Everything is silent, as if it isn’t even alive, just like a ghost street that only emerges in the mid-night and will vanish when the first sunlight strikes down from the sky. Wet dirt mixes with the smells of perfumes that left behind by people suffuse the air. Making me think of the mixture of sodas and expired apple juices.
She slammed the door behind her. Her face was hot as she grabbed her new perfume and flung it forcefully against the wall. That was the perfume that he had bought for her. She didn't want it anymore. His voice coaxed from the other side of the door. She shouted at him to get away. Throwing herself on the bed and covering her face with one of his shirts, she cried. His voice coaxed constantly, saying Carol, let me in. Let me explain.' She shouted out no!' Then cried some more. Time passed with each sob she made. When she caught herself, there was no sound on the other side of the door. A long silence stood between her and the door. Maybe she had been too hard on him, she thought. Maybe he really had a good explanation. She hesitated before she walked toward the door and twisted the handle. Her heart was crying out to her at this moment. He wasn't there. She called out his name. "Thomas!" Her cries were interrupted by the revving of an engine in the garage. She made it to the window in time to see his Volvo back out the yard. "Thomas! Thomas....wait!" Her cries vanished into thin air as the Volvo disappeared around the bend. Carol grew really angry all of a sudden. How could he leave? He'll sleep on the couch when he gets back. Those were her thoughts.