A Harder Death for People With Intellectual Disabilities
My patient’s legal guardian was not a family member, but she had known him for years before this hospitalization. She said my patient’s quality of life came from interacting non-verbally with caregivers, listening to music, and eating favorite foods like applesauce. She described the excited hoots he would make when interacting with a favorite nurse.
The contrast to what my patient was experiencing in the I.C.U. was stark. He was sedated. His unsmiling mouth drooped open, a breathing tube between his lips. In place of music, there were the beeps and whirs of the machines that kept him alive. He could not eat. Plastic tubes penetrated every orifice.