An often-misunderstood estate planning document is the living will. It’s often confused with a “living trust” which is a trust document providing the direction of how to invest and distribute your assets during your lifetime and upon your death.

The living will, in contrast, is what many refer to as the “right to die” document. In Florida, our living will statute can be found in Chapter 765, Part III. Florida law allows you to direct the withdrawal or withholding of life-prolonging procedures provided that you are in a terminal condition, have an end-stage condition, or are in a persistent vegetative state.

Typically, the living will states that when two physicians determine that there is no reasonable medical probability of your recovery from the condition, in such case the life-prolonging procedures be withheld and withdrawn when the procedures would serve only to prolong artificially the process of dying. When this occurs, you’re permitted to die naturally with only the administration of medication or the performance of a medical procedure deemed necessary to provide you with comfort, care and pain relief.

The most famous Florida case involving these issues was over Terri Schiavo, who, ironically never signed a living will. In 1990, at age 26, Schiavo suffered cardiac arrest at her home in St. Petersburg. While successfully resuscitated, she suffered massive brain damage and was left comatose. She was diagnosed 75 days later as being in a persistent vegetative state.

In 1998 her husband petitioned a Florida Court to remove her feeding tube, indicating this is what his wife would have wanted. Schiavo’s parents opposed the move. Litigation wound its way through the Florida and federal court system, ultimately resulting in the feeding tube being removed. Schiavo died in 2005, a full 15 years following her heart attack.

The Schiavo case involved 14 appeals and numerous motions, petitions, and hearings in the Florida courts; five suits in federal district court, extensive political intervention at the levels of the Florida state legislature, Governor Jeb Bush, the U.S. Congress, and President George W. Bush; and four denials of certiorari from the United States Supreme Court. The case also spurred highly visible activism from the pro-life movement, the right-to-die movement, and disability rights groups.

Despite your political beliefs, no one wants their personal medical situation to be the focus of litigation and political debate. It’s therefore surprising that so few people take the time to sign a living will.

One of the most heart-wrenching decisions my clients face when signing their living will involves the decision to remove the food and water tubes. “I don’t want to die of hunger or thirst,” is the usual response. Yet, at the same time, declaring your intent to not remove the tubes could result in a Terri Schiavo result, indefinitely lying comatose in a hospital bed.

Clients may find comfort in the fact that the living will directs for medical procedures to continue that would provide comfort, care or pain relief.

Some, however, struggle with the notion that the doctors could be wrong. That recovery may occur despite the long odds. In other cases, religious beliefs preclude the removal of food and water tubes. Both concepts occurred when Israel’s Prime Minister Ariel Sharon suffered a massive stroke in 2006.

Surgeons operated for seven hours to ease the pressure from the hemorrhage in Sharon’s brain. But few were prepared to write him off. He was known for bull-like strength, and many thought he would miraculously recover.

He underwent seven additional operations over the six months following his stroke, including the removal of a third of his large intestine. It was not until that April when ministers in the Israeli government voted unanimously to declare Sharon “permanently incapacitated,” promoting his successor Ehud Olmert to the Prime Minister’s office.

Because Orthodox Judaism considers the removal of food and water tubes euthanasia, which is prohibited under Jewish law, Sharon lay comatose in a nursing bed until his death in 2014, eight years after his stroke. He eventually died of cardiac failure.

The living will makes us confront our mortality. Medical science’s capabilities to revive and keep us alive are ahead of the philosophical, moral and religious considerations we face when making choices under a living will.

You might say that the living will is a counterbalance to science’s ability to put our bodies in a sort of stasis, yet not bring us all the way back to a functional state, including a certain quality of life. At that time, we have the option of saying “no more heroics.”

© 2019 Craig R. Hersch. Originally published in the Sanibel Island Sun