Visions, Trips, and Crowded Rooms (5 page)

To better understand this, we must examine
hearsay,
a statement made out of court that is offered in the courtroom as evidence to prove the truth of the matter asserted. The judge or jury must determine whether evidence offered as proof is credible. Three evidentiary rules help the judge or jury determine this:

1. Before being allowed to testify, witnesses must swear that their testimony is truthful. This is done with a Bible along with reciting the words
so help me God.

2. Witnesses must be physically present at the trial in order for the judge or jury to observe the testimony firsthand. For example, did they look like they were telling the truth? What were their body movements like? Their facial expressions? What might the jury or judge observe besides the spoken words?

3. Witnesses are subject to cross-examinations by any party who did not call the witness to testify. A lawyer may wish to ask for more details, for instance, such as the time of day and the lighting conditions. Does the witness have a motive to lie?

All evidence used in the U.S. legal system must conform to the Federal Rules of Evidence, which prohibits most statements made outside a courtroom from being used as evidence in court. Out-of-court statements hinder the ability of the judge or jury to probe testimony for inaccuracies caused by ambiguity, insincerity, faulty perception, or erroneous memory. Thus, statements made out of court are perceived as untrustworthy.

If the person who made the dying declaration had the slightest hope of recovery, no matter how unreasonable, the statement is
not
admissible into evidence. A dying declaration is usually introduced by the prosecution, but can be used on behalf of the accused.

It is crucial that the person believe that he or she is dying in order for the dying declaration to remain legally pure. Some paramedics, in an effort to be compassionate and hopeful, unknowingly have said things like: “You’re going to be okay” or “You’re going to make it.” The trouble is that if the dying person believes there is a chance of survival, the declaration is no longer valid. For this reason, many paramedics are instructed as to how to take and record dying statements.

The dying declaration exception of the Federal Rules of Evidence is as follows:

Rule 804(b)(2) of the Federal Rules of Evidence states the position that the Dying Declaration enjoys a special position within the law of evidence.

Rule 804. Hearsay Exceptions; Declarant Unavailable [Obviously, the dying cannot go to court.]

(b) Hearsay exceptions.—The following are not excluded by the hearsay rule if the declarant is unavailable as a witness:

(2) Statement under belief of impending death.—In a prosecution for homicide or in a civil action or proceeding, a statement made by a declarant while believing that the declarant’s death was imminent, concerning the cause or circumstances of what the declarant believed to be impending death.

Even Shakespeare said that the declarant, being at the point of death, “must lose the use of all deceit.”

The law sides with the dying on the basis of three concepts:

1. There is no longer any self-serving purpose to be furthered.

2. If a belief exists in a punishment soon to be inflicted by a Higher Power upon human ill-doing, the fear of this punishment will outweigh any possible motive for deception, and will actually counterbalance the inclination to gratify a possible spirit of revenge.

3. Even without such a belief, there is a natural and instinctive awe at the approach of an unknown future—a physical revulsion common to all men, irresistible, and independent of theological belief.

The same arguments are presented against deathbed visions (medical) and dying declarations (legal), yet with different outcomes. Here we are looking at the same argument regarding lack of oxygen to the brain and coming up with different conclusions about the dying speaking of visions or making specific declarations. According to traditional Western medicine, a dying person’s last words are usually not considered as the truth: in the legal world, the dying are presumed, under the law, to be telling the truth.

The Supreme Court has been interested in the “trustworthiness” of the dying declaration. In
Mattox v. United
States,
the Court addressed the issue of whether admission of dying declarations was constitutional under the confrontation clause of the sixth amendment. The Court held that the admission of these statements was constitutional, and noted that dying declarations:

From time immemorial . . . have been treated as competent testimony, and no one would have the hardihood at this day to question their admissibility. . . . The sense of impending death is presumed to remove all temptation to falsehood, and to enforce as strict an adherence to the truth as would the obligation of an oath.

Deathbed visions will continue to be part of the process of dying, even though we will never be able to prove (or disprove) them. The legal system has set a clear precedence for
believing
the words of the dying. As I continued my exploration, I wondered,
Will the medical community ever
reach this consensus? Are dying individuals not to be believed if
they claim that they see their deceased father, but believed if they
say that they witnessed their neighbor murdering their father?

I found myself hoping that medical health-care providers would become more aware of the credibility these statements hold in a court of law. After all, if our legal system could view these statements with such reverence, why couldn’t the doctors and nurses at a dying patient’s bedside also do so? I decided to go directly to the source in the next part of my journey.

CHAPTER THREE

V
ISIONS
OF THE
D
YING

Part I

“Too kind, too kind.”
—final words of Florence Nightingale

Now let’s take a close look at the deathbed visions that nurses
and doctors have shared with me. Some are from events that took
place with their patients, and others are stories they’ve actually
gone through with their own families. The nurses and doctors
featured here aren’t just from hospice facilities; they also represent
many different areas of medicine, including ICU and oncology.

Some experienced these visions when they were novices, but for
others, it happened much later in their careers.

A F
AMILY
A
FFAIR

by Heather

I’ve worked in the medical field for years as a nurse. I try to know the ins and outs of the health-care system, but nothing challenges a person as much as when his or her own family members become ill.

My mother, Mabel, and I were out on a Saturday afternoon. By the time we’d finished our errands and had driven back to my parents’ house, it was nightfall. We were both surprised by the sudden darkness and then remembered that we’d just turned back the clocks the night before. As I brought in a grocery bag, I called out for my dad, Joseph, to hold the door open, but there was no response. My mother and I looked at each another, wondering what was up. I started to put away the food while Mom went to look for Dad, whom she was sure must be napping in front of the TV. She found the TV on, but no Joseph. She checked all the rooms and both the back and front yards, but he was nowhere to be found.

Mom called a few neighbors, who hadn’t seen him. After an hour, we were both pretty panicked. At the age of 85, my father had stopped driving due to his failing eyesight, and we were afraid that he had attempted to drive. Although we were quickly relieved to see that the car was still in the garage, we couldn’t imagine where he had gone or why. Our concern deepened when we saw his wallet sitting on the dresser.

Mother called the police, and I drove around the neighborhood searching. Four frantic hours later, we got a call that an officer had found my father across town, and that he seemed confused and wasn’t sure where he was. The next few days were filled with doctors’ appointments to confirm what we suspected: Dad had Alzheimer’s.

My mom, of course, had realized that her husband was getting older, but when she noticed the odd little things he did, she’d say, “No one in their 80s is a rocket scientist.” Even so, she never expected him to wander away and forget where he lived. After the diagnosis, we found ways to make sure he was never alone and even replaced the locks so that you needed keys to get in and out of the house when we were sleeping. Family and friends also pitched in during the day if my mom had to go out and I was working.

As if things weren’t hard enough, my mother began to have stomach problems and was feeling very fatigued. Now I was dealing with two elderly parents in declining health. On top of my father having Alzheimer’s, Mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I soon found that juggling my job as a nurse and caring for my own children as well as my ailing parents was more than I could handle (and quitting work wasn’t an option). My co-workers had been mentioning for a while that perhaps it was time to put my dad in a facility; and even though I’d resisted the idea at first, it now seemed like my options were dwindling.

So my parents and I began looking at nursing homes and found Sunset Gardens, which was a really nice place. Dad was content, as this facility had a perfect mixture of comfort and security. After all, he was still a strong man in otherwise good health. It was a blessing that the move was surprisingly uneventful. Mom was more upset about living apart from her husband, so when she wasn’t at her own doctors’ appointments, she was there at Sunset Gardens with him.

At 81 years old, my mother decided not to undergo chemo or other aggressive treatments, preferring to let nature take it course. The doctors told her that she probably had a year or so, but no one expected her to suddenly fall on the way to the bathroom one day and break her hip. After a lengthy hospital stay,
she
now required around-the-clock care. Since her needs were different from my dad’s, however, she ended up in a separate facility. I was now shuttling between my kids’ school, my job, and two nursing homes.

For my mom, things quickly went from bad to worse: after the broken hip came a urinary-tract infection, then a respiratory infection. As her illnesses escalated, I was getting over to see my father less and less. Other family members would make sure he had a visit at least two or three times a week, even though at this point he was no longer recognizing loved ones.

Mom’s doctors met with us and explained that there were just too many things going wrong with her body at once, yet returning to the hospital for more testing didn’t make sense. While we agreed, we ultimately left the decision to Mom. She said, “I’ve lived over eight decades. I can’t complain too much—it’s just my time.”

I was searching for a way for my parents to be together, but my mother’s facility didn’t accept Alzheimer’s patients, while my father’s
only
accepted patients with Alzheimer’s and dementia. We were unsure if we should even tell him how bad Mom was doing because there was basically nothing he could do. We’d hoped to find a way to get him out for a few hours to see his wife when the call came that Mom’s condition had worsened: her blood pressure was dropping, and her heart rate was increasing.