Healthcare Power Of Attorney
Healthcare Power Of Attorney
Sami – My Uncle
A healthcare power of attorney (HCPA) is a legal document that allows an individual to appoint someone else (an agent) to make healthcare decisions on their behalf if they become unable to do so.
This is a power I wish I did not need to have.
The hospital room’s sterile scent mingled with the quiet but persistent sounds of machines, forming the backdrop as I faced one of the toughest moments of my life beside Uncle Sami’s bed. His once vibrant personality seemed to be at a standstill, shadowed by his current vulnerability.
“I don’t want you to pull the plug on me, Lisa. You hear me?” Sami’s voice, though frail, carried a firm resolve that I knew all too well.
My response was a quiet nod, the kind that carried the weight of unspoken promises and the gravity of decisions I hoped I’d never have to make. “I understand, Uncle. I promise to respect your wishes.”
They were enveloped in the hospital’s ambient noises, a stark reminder of the reality they were facing. I, now armed with a healthcare Power of Attorney (POA) for Uncle Sami, was stepping into a role filled with complexities and emotional burdens that were hard for me to even imagine.
Drafting the POA had been anything but straightforward.
Uncle Sami’s with a mixture of resignation and determination said, “We do what we must, Rosie. I have my conditions,” he had insisted.
Sami was clear about his wishes, dictating terms with the precision of someone who understood the stakes.
“I want to be on the ventilator as long as it is working. Don’t you let anyone pull the plug. I want to live as long as possible” Uncle Sami started with this condition,
“If removing a limb is required to save my life, then save my life” Sami had stated firmly, making his autonomy a priority.
“And don’t shy away from experimental treatments, Lisa. If there’s even a sliver of hope, I want in,” he had added, his gaze locking with Lisa’s, seeking her agreement.
“If I develop dementia, I prefer to receive the maximum dosage of medication that can maintain my clarity of mind, even if it means potentially shortening my life span.”
After he outlined these conditions, he took a long pause. I asked, “So are we done?”
Uncle Sam, understanding his limited time left, solemnly said, “Keep me comfortable, within my financial means, and preserve my dignity. I trust you to make decisions with those guidelines.” Entrusting me with the responsibility to honor his conditions in his care choices.
He looked at my overwhelmed and somber face and decided he needed to lighten the mood, “In my healthcare POA, please include that if I’m ever in a coma, I’d like to be played my least favorite music. It’s the best shot at getting me to wake up just to turn it off.”
As I imagined the likelihood of that happening, I said “I can see that!” They both burst into laughter.
Lisa then compiled, her pen moving decisively across the paper, sealing Sami’s wishes into an official document. The finalized POA was a reflection of Sami’s strong will to maintain control over his life’s final chapters.
Once the POAs were in place, I made copies for all applicable parties: doctors, hospitals, or nursing facilities. I also emailed it to any family members who might be interested in voicing their opinion and influencing the decisions if they choose.
Managing my aunt’s healthcare without a POA proved difficult. In contrast, Uncle Sami had arranged his POA a month before his passing, which led us to wonder if earlier preparation could have altered our choices. This experience prompted me to secure my parents’ POA well ahead of time, especially crucial for my mother as her dementia advanced rapidly.
The Reunion
Lily, Malakai, and Madison’s Story
Madison had always been the cornerstone of her family. As a devoted mother, loving wife, and steadfast friend, her life exemplified strength and compassion. Nearing her 70th birthday, her children, Lily and Malakai, grew increasingly concerned about her health. Though Madison remained alert and engaged, the realities of aging were becoming more apparent.
One sunny afternoon, Madison invited her children over for tea. They gathered in her cozy living room, sunlight streaming through the lace curtains. After some pleasant small talk, Madison’s expression turned serious.
“There’s something important I need to discuss with both of you,” she began, her voice calm but firm.
“As you both know, I’ve been managing my Parkinson’s disease for a few years now,” Madison continued. “I’m doing well, but Parkinson’s is unpredictable, and there might come a time when I can’t communicate my wishes.”
Lily reached out and took her mother’s hand. “Mom, we’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re cared for the way you want.”
Madison squeezed Lily’s hand gently. “Thank you, dear. I want you to be my healthcare power of attorney, Lily. And Malakai, I want you to be the secondary agent.”
Malakai nodded slowly. “Of course, Mom. We’ll make sure your wishes are respected.”
Madison then pulled out a folder filled with documents and notes. “I’ve written down my specific requests. It’s important to me that you understand them.”
Lily and Malakai leaned in, listening intently as Madison explained her wishes.
“If my Parkinson’s progresses to the point where I can’t swallow, I don’t want a feeding tube. I want to be kept comfortable, but I don’t want any extraordinary measures taken to prolong my life,” Madison said, her voice steady.
Lily’s eyes filled with tears, but she nodded in agreement. “I understand, Mom.”
“And if I develop severe dementia, where I can’t recognize anyone or communicate, I don’t want any aggressive treatments for other conditions. Just keep me comfortable,” Madison continued.
Malakai’s expression was solemn as he took notes. “Got it, Mom. We’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”
Madison went on to specify her preferences for pain management, stating that she wanted all available options used to ensure she wasn’t in pain. She also expressed her wish to remain at home as long as possible, rather than being moved to a nursing facility.
“One more thing,” Madison added, her voice softening. “I want you both to remember that my quality of life is more important to me than the quantity of it. If there’s ever a doubt, always choose what you think will give me the most peace and comfort.”
Lily and Malakai exchanged a look of shared determination. “We promise, Mom,” they said in unison.
With the decision made and the specific requests documented, Madison felt a sense of relief wash over her. They spent the next hour discussing her preferences, ensuring every detail was understood. Madison’s eyes sparkled with gratitude as she watched her children listen attentively, their love for her evident in every word and gesture.
Years later, when Madison faced a serious health crisis, Lily and Malakai were ready. They navigated the difficult decisions with grace and courage, always keeping Madison’s wishes at the forefront. Through it all, they felt her love guiding them, a beacon of light in the darkest moments.
Madison’s foresight and wisdom had given her family a priceless gift: the ability to honor her life with dignity and respect. And in the end, that was all Madison had ever wanted.
The Lawyer’s Office
Talia and Eleanora’s Story
Archer King’s office, with its dark wood paneling and shelves lined with law books, was the setting for a pivotal meeting between Eleanora Smith and her daughter, Talia. Eleanora, had been diagnosed with early-stage Alzheimer’s and wanted to ensure her medical wishes were clear.
Talia sat next to her mother, holding her hand. “Mom, I’m here for you,” she reassured softly.
Eleanora nodded, her eyes filled with determination. “Thank you, sweetheart. I need to make sure my wishes are known.”
Archer opened the folder with Eleanora’s medical records and the healthcare power of attorney document. “Eleanora, you’ve chosen Talia as your primary healthcare agent. Let’s go over your specific requests.”
Eleanora took a deep breath. “If my Alzheimer’s progresses and I can no longer make decisions, I want a Do Not Resuscitate order. No CPR or advanced cardiac life support.”
Talia squeezed her mother’s hand, her voice steady despite her emotions. “I’ll make sure of it, Mom.”
Eleanora continued, “I want to donate my organs if possible. If my brain can be used for research to help others with Alzheimer’s, I want that to happen.”
Archer noted this down. “And your preferences for daily care?”
Eleanora’s eyes softened. “I want to stay at home as long as possible. If I need to move, it should be to a place where they engage me in activities and ensure I’m not isolated.”
Talia nodded, her voice firm. “I’ll find the best place, Mom. You’ll never be alone.”
Eleanora finished with a heartfelt plea. “Talia, I trust you. If something unexpected happens, make the decision you believe I’d want.”
Archer finalized the document, and Eleanora signed it with a steady hand. “Thank you, Archer. And thank you, Talia, for being here with me.”
Talia hugged her mother tightly. “We’ll get through this together, Mom.”
As they left the office, Talia felt a profound sense of responsibility but also relief. Her mother’s clear instructions and trust made her feel empowered to honor Eleanora’s wishes with love and care.