The Insidiousness of the Culture of Death
My mother died on February 26, 2006. She spent most of February in the hospital. When it became clear she was never going home, medical staff suggested we utilize their new inpatient palliative care unit. Mom would be their first patient.
We thought she would die more comfortably there, so we agreed. Staff was compassionate. They inquired about her wishes and complied with everything we asked. We were grateful for the palliative care option.
My dad died seven years later, on Good Friday, March 29, 2013. He died in the same palliative care unit as his wife. Nevertheless, it was a much