How Some Hospices are Killing Patients: One Family's Story
by Karla Dial
LifeNews.com Staff Writer
January 2, 2004
[Editor's Note: This article is a follow-up to our well-received exclusive profile of the hospice industry, "Are Euthanasia Advocates Taking Over America's Hospice Industry?" * Names have been changed in this article to protect the identity of people mentioned in it.]
Washington,
DC (LifeNews.com) -- The idea of hospices killing patients can evoke
a lot of responses -- ranging from wide-eyed incredulity to blatant
derision. Hospices don't kill people, some might say; it simply does
not happen.
Marilyn Martin* would beg to differ.
Martin's father was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease in 1995. Five
years later, his wife put him in a hospice. Within two weeks, he was
dead.
"The night he died [the hospice] called me," Martin recalled,
"I rushed over in the middle of the night and asked what happened.
A nurse said that after we had all left, she gave him some morphine
to help his breathing.
"He wasn't having any trouble breathing. So I knew right away they
had just overdosed him."
Martin believes her father was killed for money -- specifically, so
her mother could inherit some of the millions in his bank account and
continue her jet-set lifestyle, unfettered by a debilitated but nonterminal
spouse. And she found a hospice that was willing to help her do just
that.
Family history
Martin's father got his money the old-fashioned
way -- he earned it doing contracting work with the federal government.
Shortly after his diagnosis, he retired, but continued working as a
consultant, making trips to Asia and South America. For the first few
years, he was relatively asymptomatic, untroubled by tremors.
What he did have a problem with was swallowing, and sometimes-garbled
speech. And according to Martin, his wife didn't help.
"My mother didn't always stick to the diet," she said. "She'd
give him things like peanut butter, which was a definite no-no on the
list. So he'd choke on occasions. But there was one very bad incident
when he was hospitalized."
That's when the trouble began.
Martin's father had an advance directive stating that he didn't want
to be kept on artificial life-support systems if he was ever incapacitated,
but that he wanted to be fed; the directive named Martin and her mother
as executors. After the choking episode that hospitalized him in 1998,
his doctor ordered a round of tests that determined the Parkinson's
was progressing, and he'd eventually need a feeding tube.
"My mother was embarrassed," Martin said. "She was constantly
traveling [to Europe], out doing her own thing. But it was his choice.
They tested my father and said he was perfectly capable of making this
decision himself, so there was nothing she could do about it."
Marcia Gideon*, a certified nursing assistant in the Eastern metropolis
where the family lived, had been looking after Martin's father two years
at that point, while his wife made frequent trips overseas. She accompanied
the pair to doctor's appointments, and remembers the feeding tube visit
vividly.
"His wife got all crazy about that," she told LifeNews.com.
"He couldn't really talk, but you could see by his face that he
really wanted the feeding tube. She said he never wanted it and it was
in his living will -- but all that was in there was him saying he didn't
want artificial life support.
"So she took him to another doctor and said that, and he said,
‘Well, let me ask him.' And he saw that [Mr. Martin] really wanted the
feeding tube, so he got it. She was really upset. After that, she would
always say she was going in [to see the doctor] with him, and I could
wait outside. It was like she didn't want me to know what was going
on."
From bad to worse
After that, Gideon said, she and the other two
nursing assistants who took turns caring for Martin's father started
noticing that his wife was holding a lot of meetings at the house with
people she didn't recognize. And within six months, Martin said, her
mother said she was going to put her father in a nursing home.
"I got very upset," she said. "There was no reason for
him to be put in a nursing home. We had an argument. My mother said
it was just something she was thinking about."
Martin was more than willing to have her father move in with her so
she could look after him full-time -- and so were his hired caregivers.
But the next afternoon, Martin checked her answering machine and heard
a frantic message from Gideon.
"She said there was an ambulance coming to pick my father up to
take him to a hospice, and if I wanted to do anything about it, I needed
to get over there right away," she said.
Gideon was just as upset -- and she finally knew what all the secret
meetings had been about.
"One day she came in and said, ‘I'm putting [Mr. Martin] in a hospice
home," she recalled. "I said, ‘Hospice? That's where people
die! [Mr. Martin's] not dying.' So we called [Marilyn], and she came
down. [Mr. Martin] was holding onto her and crying because he knew what
they were doing and he didn't want to die. His primary doctor wouldn't
do it, but she found some doctor that would put him in a hospice."
Actually, Martin said, it wasn't a doctor at all -- it was a nurse,
recognized by one of her father's caretakers, who made the diagnosis
that he was fit for hospice care.
"She said a nurse she knew … walked in the house, met my mother,
and then they walked out and had their meeting in the car," Martin
said. "They knew from the get-go that I was willing to have him
live in my house and I'd put a stop to it. That was July 14, 2000."
Things happened very quickly after that.
When her father arrived at the hospice, Martin said, the administrators
asked her for a copy of his advance directive, because they didn't have
one.
"How do you take a man into your establishment based on the word
of some woman who doesn't even have documents?" she asked. "I
had them. But he was already there."
So Martin consulted her father's doctors—all three of them.
"My Mom kept switching them," she explained. "When she
didn't get the answers she wanted, she moved on. I spoke to all of them,
and they said there was nothing in the medical record that indicated
he was terminal. The last one said I needed to talk to my mother, because
she was ‘manipulating everyone.'
"I told my mother, and she said he couldn't talk to me like that.
I said he was my father's doctor, not hers -- so she became one of his
patients so he couldn't talk to me anymore."
Meanwhile, Martin and her husband visited her father daily in the hospice.
They found him alert, quick to laugh and clown around. But a quick check
of the cans of Ensure he relied on for nutrition told her that they
weren't feeding him very much -- and by the end of his first week they'd
stopped feeding him altogether.
Martin's two brothers arrived from another state at the end of the first
week. Just two hours after Martin had left the hospice, they found him
"drooling on himself, not the same person at all," she said.
"I caught a nurse shooting something down his throat with a large
syringe, and she said it was Roxonol [liquid morphine]," Martin
said. Her husband went into the hall and jotted down the names of the
medicines on her father's cart; one was Haldol, an antipsychotic that,
according to drug monographs, isn't recommended for Parkinson's patients.
"[The Haldol] would explain why my brother saw a drooling man,"
Martin said. "And if this man isn't terminal or in pain, there's
no reason for the morphine."
A few days later, Martin was told her father was dead. It was Aug. 2,
2000 -- less than two weeks since his admission to the hospice.
A tragic end
Convinced it was a hospice murder, Martin started
calling anyone who would listen, asking them to investigate: Her local
district attorney. The state Department of Aging. The state Office of
Quality Healthcare. After getting a police investigator to agree to
meet with her, she got a call back from him a few hours later, canceling
the appointment. The Office of Quality Healthcare actually did an investigation
and told her they'd found "discrepancies" and would be sending
her a report. She never got it. Five times, she requested the report
under the Freedom of Information Act, and three years later, still hasn't
received it. She did, however, receive a phone call from someone in
the office telling her she was "stepping on people's toes and had
to back off."
"I know my mother wanted this to happen," Martin told LifeNews.com.
"She won't discuss it with me. I told her what she did was a felony.
She said no one ever told her that giving morphine to someone for no
reason was wrong."
Gideon has continued her work as a nursing assistant -- but her view
of the hospice industry has been forever changed.
"I don't feel the same way I used to about hospice," she said.
"I know they don't all operate in this manner, but there are some
that are taking lives and allowing people to die before their time.
It's unlawful.
"This man wanted to live. He had grandchildren he enjoyed seeing, and she just took all of that from him. For someone to just wake up and decide one day that he shouldn't live anymore—that's wrong. I want it to stop. I don't want this to keep happening to a lot of other families.
"I don't believe this is the only family this has happened to."
Related web sites:
Hospice Patients Alliance - http://www.hospicepatients.org



