Why Terri Schiavo Must Die

Sunday March 6 2005

I remember coming home from school when I was 13 years old and finding that my mother had fallen down the cellar stairs and broken her neck. She must have laid there for several hours because by the time my little sister and I found her, her eyes were glossed over and she just stared off into space.

We didn’t have a phone as were very poor. My father had died in an unfortunate incident a few months before and my mother could barley make ends meet. Needless to say, there was not enough money in the cookie jar to call a doctor and my mom was too heavy to lift so I made her a bed at he bottom of the stairs. Each morning I would milk and feed the cows before getting me and my sister off to school. After school I would scrub floors or split logs for the rich folks up on the hill. Within a couple of weeks I had enough money to summon the doctor.

When the doctor arrived at our house he could not believe the condition my mother was in. He chastised me for not summoning him sooner. He said she needed ambulatory care or she would die. At very best she may never fully recover from her injuries. I explained that I had no money for ambulatory care and asked what I else I could do. He offered to pay for her care if my sister Daphne and I would come and keep his home.

The doctor moved my mom, my sister and I into his house. His wife had died a few years earlier and he had become very lonely. Our being in his home seemed to lift his spirits almost immediately. True to his word he arranged for the care of my mother. She had wires and tubes, bells and whistles, lights and buzzers all around her. There was a live in nurse who kept a check on her condition. True to our word my sister Daphne and I kept his house in order. We chopped his wood and scrubbed his floors and life was good.

After a couple of months we noticed that my mother was doing better. Where once her gaze was glossed over she now appeared to focus. She seemed to be able to respond sometimes if we’d wave our hands over her face. Sometimes she would follow us with her eyes. The doctor explained that she had recovered far beyond what he had hoped but she still may never fully recover.

She was well enough however, that the doctor discontinued the live in nurse and removed all of the machines that had been keeping her alive. All that remained was one tube and a small box on her night stand. I asked the doctor what the tube was for and he explained that since my mom could not eat like normal people, she received her food through the tube. Should that tube get pulled out she would die.

Even though she looked like a vegetable, she could respond to sounds, follow moving objects with her eyes, and she even seemed like she could smile from time to time. It was truly amazing how far she had come in such a short time.

About six months later I happened to wake in the middle of the night. I kept hearing a noise coming from her bedroom. Beneath the crack of my door I could see a sliver of light. Within the light, the faint movement of shadows. Then as abruptly as I had awakened the light was off and the noise stopped. This same series of events repeated it self each night for several weeks. The entire duration not more than five minutes. Ultimately my curiosity got the best of me so one night I waited by my door for the sliver of light.

When the light appeared I ever so silently turned my door knob and tiptoed into the hall. I carefully approached my mother’s bedroom door so not to be detected. I slowly turned the knob and managed to open the door a crack’s width without being detected. And what did I discover to be the source of the noise you ask.

As I slammed the door open I uttered my first profanities to an elder. “Damn you” I exclaimed. The doctor lay on top of my naked mother having his way with her. The doctor was as shocked to see me as I was to see him. “What are you doing?” I demanded. ”How dare you molest my mother you sick bastard!”

It was that very evening that I decided my mother’s feeding tube must be removed that it may prevent this evil perverted man from molesting her but I must stealthily remove it as not to alert the doctor of its elimination. The next day while the doctor was away I sabotaged the machine where the tube originated preventing it from delivering it’s life juice to my mother.

As I suspected the doctor never realized that I had disabled the machine and he continued to molest her until the tenth night when he found her dead. He never molested her after that.

Copyright © 2005 Quaid Davis. All rights reserved.