It has been five months today since my sister had the first of many brain surgeries for a burst aneurysm. I was visiting her yesterday, and the visit prompted the following random bioethical thoughts.
Health-care payment reform – My sister is in a nursing home, and until recently had been receiving various therapies. Earlier this month her insurance ran out, and suddenly — without notice — now she receives none.
This situation is not surprising, given the claptrap patchwork of healthcare payment that passes for a system in our country. The health-care payment reform debate has been so politicized — that is, it has become a tool of political power that each party wields as a weapon against its opponent — that rational, ethical discourse on the subject seems to have been left in the dust. There is a more ethical way to deliver health care; however, as long as we leave it up to lobbyists, interest groups, and two political parties that seem more intent on power than government, we will see increasing numbers of people left in the medical and political dust.
Human dignity – By some standards, my sister might be thought of as having lost her human dignity. Before June 11th she was an energetic, triathlon-running, blog-posting woman; now we are excited if she can manage a hand-squeeze or a groan. By some estimations, she might be said to have a “life not worth living.” According to some bioethicists, she doesn’t have what it takes to be treated with the respect due to human persons. I’m sure glad they haven’t been taking care of her these last five months.
The search for a cure – Putting aside for the purpose of argument all of the insurmountable hurdles that have to be overcome, imagine for a moment that the fondest dreams of certain researchers reach fruition, and that embryonic stem-cell therapy for brain trauma becomes a reality. Imagine (you have to imagine, because it is all imaginary at this time, never mind the rhetoric to the contrary): What if my sister could walk and talk and laugh again, if only we were willing to sacrifice an embryo, “a glob of cells smaller than the period at the end of a sentence,” maybe an embryo leftover from IVF in fertility-clinic-freezer limbo somewhere?
Much of the Church has taken a stand against embryonic stem-cell research, as is right. But it’s easy to oppose something that has no forseeable hope of becoming reality. What would happen if the unthinkable became possible? Would the Church still stand against it? If cures for your daughter’s diabetes, your son’s leukemia, your wife’s brain tumor, your mother’s Alzheimer’s, were an embryo away? Would we be like the liberal bioethicists and find justifications for what we now rightly oppose? Or would we continue to respect all humans, no matter what size or developmental stage, even to our own hurt?