Anyone who's ever kept vigil...
Illustration
Anyone who's ever kept vigil with a loved one in a hospital intensive care unit can
picture the scene: the hissing of the ventilator, breathing for the patient; the jagged peaks
and valleys of the vital signs on the computer screen; the intricate tangle of plastic tubes -
- a plumber's nightmare! -- some of them connected to IVs, others draining bodily fluids.
In the ICU, every detail of a patient's bodily existence is carefully monitored. Heartbeat,
respiration, temperature, blood chemistry, fluid output, and all the rest are charted and
analyzed. The nurses -- tremendously skilled and caring, at the pinnacle of their
profession -- know exactly what to do, in the event that anything in that delicate equation
teeters out of balance.
Heart beating too fast? A syringe full of medication injected into the IV will slow it down. Breathing irregular? Turn up the oxygen. Haven't eaten in a while? A nutritional solution can be dripped, hour-by-hour, into the veins. Feeling anxious? A few milliliters of sedative will take the edge off.
The whole philosophy of intensive care is to reduce human life to a biological equation, a closed system with carefully measured inputs and outputs. By skillfully manipulating these biochemical factors, the medical professions encourage the patient's recovery.
Is it helpful? Most definitely. There are people walking around healthy, today, because of care they received in an intensive-care unit. But is it life? According to strict medical definitions, yes. Yet, common sense suggests that some patients in the ICU are less than alive. When the regretful decision is made to turn off the life-support, and nature quickly takes its course, family members may wonder whether their loved one did not already leave them some days before.
Not even the modern marvels of the intensive care unit have beaten the enemy we call "death." First Corinthians 15:26 says it's "the last enemy." The only one who can ultimately defeat it is Jesus Christ.
Heart beating too fast? A syringe full of medication injected into the IV will slow it down. Breathing irregular? Turn up the oxygen. Haven't eaten in a while? A nutritional solution can be dripped, hour-by-hour, into the veins. Feeling anxious? A few milliliters of sedative will take the edge off.
The whole philosophy of intensive care is to reduce human life to a biological equation, a closed system with carefully measured inputs and outputs. By skillfully manipulating these biochemical factors, the medical professions encourage the patient's recovery.
Is it helpful? Most definitely. There are people walking around healthy, today, because of care they received in an intensive-care unit. But is it life? According to strict medical definitions, yes. Yet, common sense suggests that some patients in the ICU are less than alive. When the regretful decision is made to turn off the life-support, and nature quickly takes its course, family members may wonder whether their loved one did not already leave them some days before.
Not even the modern marvels of the intensive care unit have beaten the enemy we call "death." First Corinthians 15:26 says it's "the last enemy." The only one who can ultimately defeat it is Jesus Christ.
