I’ve been fighting a cold over the past couple days. I’m not sure why I seem to be getting sick more frequently as of late. Maybe I need to start pouring orange juice down my g-tube on a daily basis. Or maybe I should start chewing on some vitamin C tablets. Or maybe I should ask some South American medicine man to make a charm for me. Because anything is preferable to this feeling of breathing through a straw. Somebody needs to invent little nanite devices that I can inject and will seek out and kill the microscopic fuckers partying in my lungs. I’d even consider selling my soul for such an invention.
My sister just informed me that she ran into Prince this morning at a bagel shop. You would think that someone like Prince has people whose job it is to get the man his bagels. Maybe he likes mingling with the plebes every now and then.
She’s also been telling me about her new boyfriend. As her older sibling, I have high expectations for any of her potential suitors. I haven’t met this new beau yet, but when I do, he’ll have a lengthy questionnaire to complete. I actually have a running bet with myself regarding which of my siblings will be the first to get married. Right now, I’d put the odds in favor of my sister, but my brother always has the potential to pull ahead. And no, I don’t have any odds on myself. I suppose you could call me something of a dark horse in this race. Right now, I’d be thrilled if I could get a dinner date with someone. I’ve considered the whole speed-dating thing, but that seems to depend on one’s ability to be a fast talker, which I’m not. It might be worth trying, though, just to see what kind of reactions I get.
One of my former nurses forwarded me the obituary for Marilyn Rogers, a well-known disability activist in the Twin Cities. I never had the opportunity to meet Marilyn personally, but I’ve been heard many stories about her spearheading efforts to make the Cities more accessible to people with disabilities. Based on everything I’ve been told, she was a remarkable woman and she will be missed.
Harriet McBryde Johnson had a a recent article in Slate discussing the Schiavo case. She makes ten points that she thinks are being obscured in the current emotional maelstrom surrounding the issue. I don’t want to respond to every single point, but I want to respond to some of her statements that caught my attention:
Ms. Schiavo is not dependent on life support. Her lungs, kidneys, heart and digestive systems work fine. Just as she uses a wheelchair for mobility, she uses a tube for eating and drinking. Feeding Ms. Schiavo is not difficult, painful or in any way heroic. That Ms. Schiavo eats through a tube should have nothing to do with whether she should live or die.
I’m not sure I get the distinction. I’ll use myself as an example, simply because it’s convenient. I use both a feeding tube and a ventilator. If either device were removed, I’d probably die. The feeding tube may not have as many flashing lights or buttons but that doesn’t make it any less critical to my survival. I agree that the fact she has a feeding tube isn’t determinative in Schiavo’s case, but it is an intervention on the same level as a dialysis machine or a ventilator.
There is a genuine dispute as to what Ms. Schiavo believed and expressed about life with severe disability before she herself became incapacitated; certainly, she never stated her preferences in an advance directive such as a living will. If we assume that she is aware and conscious, it is possible that, like most people who have lived with a severe disability for as long as she has, she has abandoned her preconceived fears of the life she is now living. We have no idea whether she wishes to be bound by things she might have said when she was living a very different life.
Most of the court-appointed physicians seem to agree that Schiavo is in a vegetative state. Putting that aside, I think it’s presumptuous for us to project our own views on living with a disability onto a woman we don’t personally know. Many people with acquired disabilities never completely accept their altered existence. It is true that Schiavo didn’t leave an advance directive; that’s why we look to the judgment of those who know the individual best; in this case, the husband.
In addition to the rights all people enjoy, Ms. Schiavo has a statutory right under the Americans With Disabilities Act not to be treated differently because of her disability. Obviously, Florida law would not allow a husband to kill a non-disabled wife by denying her nourishment. It is Ms. Schiavo’s disability that makes her killing different in the eyes of the Florida courts. Because the state is overtly drawing lines based on disability, it has the burden under the ADA of justifying those lines.
I’m curious to understand exactly how the ADA applies in this situation. It’s not the state that is withholding treatment from Schiavo, which pretty much rules out a Title II claim. Title I (dealing with employment) and Title III (addressing places of public accommodations) don’t apply. It is not solely her disability that distinguishes Schiavo’s case; it is the role of her husband as health care proxy to which so many people are objecting. In every state, marriage is defined as a bundle of rights and obligations. The ability to make health care decisions, barring an explicit directive to the contrary, is part of that bundle of rights. To turn the tables, do we take away that right from a spouse once the other spouse becomes disabled? Isn’t that a more obvious deprivation of rights–for both spouses?
The whole society has a stake in making sure state courts are not tainted by prejudices, myths, and unfounded fears�like the unthinking horror in mainstream society that transforms feeding tubes into fetish objects, emblematic of broader, deeper fears of disability that sometimes slide from fear to disgust and from disgust to hatred. While we should not assume that disability prejudice tainted the Florida courts, we cannot reasonably assume that it did not.
This one has me scratching my head. What makes federal courts any likelier to be enlightened on disability issues? The judges on federal courts are not endowed with Solomonic wisdom when they assume the bench. They are humans and they have their own prejudices and biases, for good or ill. To second-guess the decisions of state courts is tantamount to creating a grown-up table and kiddie table of jurisprudence.
I have a lot of respect for Ms. McBryde Johnson’s writing and advocacy work, but some of her statements on this issue need clarification. Maybe someone will send this blog entry to her and we can have a good ol’-fashioned debate. Like I’ve said before, the disability community is not of one mind on this, despite media portrayals to the contrary.
Signatures on credit cards and credit card receipts have always seemed kind of silly. As with so many things, they provide a false sense of security. The person behind the counter rarely checks to make sure that the signatures match. To illustrate my point, you only have to read about this social experiment where the author began to sign credit card receipts in a variety of nonconformist, sometimes artistic, ways. Most of the time, the lackeys at the cash register didn’t even bat an eyelash. This pretty much confirms my own experiences. My check card doesn’t even have my signature on the reverse side. Instead, I wrote “SEE ID.” But most of the time, the store clerks don’t even request identification. I’ve given my check card to my sister to pick things up for me and she’s never had trouble using it, even though she certainly doesn’t look like a Mark. Theoretically, someone could swipe my card and buy themselves a nice weekend in Vegas, but I’m pretty certain the card’s fraud protection policy would kick in if that occurred. Nevertheless, I wonder how long it will be before credit cards or check cards are encoded with an individual’s DNA fingerprint or other biometrics. And when that day comes, it will be a sad day because it’ll mean I won’t be able to get my sister to run my errands for me.
The TV-B-Gone keychain has been around for a few months now. The intent of this little device is to surreptitiously turn off televisions in public places like bars and restaurants. I’m all for it. If I want to watch TV, I’ll stay home. But I’m urging the designers to also invent a similar device for shutting off the damn sound systems that blare out music in those same public places. I’m tired of meeting a friend at a bar and having my voice compete with the Greatest Hits of the 80s collection coming out of speakers turned up to 11. If it’s a contest of decibels between me and the Power Station’s “Some Like It Hot,” Power Station will always win. I’ve heard rumors of pubs and restaurants where the only sound you hear upon walking through the door is the quiet buzz of human conversation. However, I suspect those places only exist as urban legends.
Most of you have probably heard about the school shooting that took place yesterday on an Indian reservation in northern Minnesota. I’m curious to see how the media will treat this tragedy as compared to the Columbine shooting. This didn’t happen in a rich suburban school where most of the kids are white. This happened in a remote part of the state where poverty and unemployment is rampant. It looks like the media are already emphasizing the kid’s apparent fascination with Nazism. A Native American who self-identified as a Nazi…it sounds like something you would only see on bad daytime television.
I have to believe that the true conservatives–the ones who believe in limited government intrusion into citizens’ private lives–are shaking their heads over the recent actions of Congress and the President regarding the Schiavo case. Every day, spouses make health care decisions for their incapacitated partners, many of whom do not leave clear instructions. It’s one of the fundamental rights connected with marriage. But this Administration apparently looked at their calendars and decided it was time to throw a bone to the religious right. In doing so, it has perhaps permanently undermined the GOP’s historical commitment to states’ rights and limited government. What we are witnessing is the transformation of the GOP into a party that rivals Democrats in their willingness to expand the reach of government. The only difference is that Democrats have typically seen government as a guarantor of some modicum of economic justice. Republicans see government as the guarantor of security and a “moral” society, with the morals being defined by a highly vocal and philosophically rigid segment of the party.
If any good comes of this mess, perhaps more people will be motivated to complete their own health care directives. I wonder if Bush has a health care directive.
Sooner or later, all the cool gadgets we first saw in old Star Trek episodes will become reality. Here’s a hypospray device that doesn’t even have to touch the skin. I’m still waiting for my own personal transporter device for those quick day trips to Paris. That is assuming, of course, that we don’t first obliterate ourselves with one of our man-made black holes.
We usually get hammered with at least one major snowstorm in March and it arrived yesterday. It was something of a hit-and-miss affair; the weather oracles were predicting anywhere from two inches to over a foot of snow. Here in Minneapolis, we have about five inches on the ground, while places further south like Fairbault and Rochester were buried under a foot or more. It’s kind of remarkable how accustomed your eye becomes to the monochromatic existence that is winter in the Upper Midwest. Shades of gray, brown, and white stretch to the horizon and the color green is a distant memory. When you spend more than half of every year in the depths of winter or at its margins, the promise of summer burns even brighter in the inner calendar of your mind. You begin to assign an almost religious significance to those four months that don’t contain the letter “R.”
