My life changed in an instant in 2009 when my husband, Seth, was in an automobile accident, which left him incapacitated with a traumatic brain injury. This-life altering experience led me to start the 820 Foundation as a way to educate, inspire, and empower individuals to see end-of-life planning as a part of life. My hope is to use this tragedy to help others avoid the pitfalls of putting emergency planning on the back burner.

 

Doctors were unable to get Seth’s intracranial pressure to go down and stay down successfully, so his drain had to stay in and he had to remain medically sedated. 

 

I got used to the steady cadence of the hospital, the flow of doctors and nurses in and out of the room, the sounds of chatter—even bursts of laughter—from the nurse’s station down the hall. 

 

The hospital staff was wonderful to my mom and me, and nurses would stop in at the beginning and end of shifts just to say hi and see how we were doing. It soon was clear that our story had spread throughout the hospital, whispered over lunch breaks and elevator rides. People had fallen in love with Seth. And me and Tucker—and our story and the hope I still held for a miraculous recovery.

 

During those days, my mom and I had our chairs next to one another in the Neuro-ICU waiting room. We could only see Seth a few times a day for fifteen minutes at a time. 

 

Only two visitors were allowed in the room at a time. They had to be silent; the smallest noises would spike his pressures. 

 

Most of the time, my mom and I only had the buzz of halogen lights and outdated magazines to keep us company. We’d often just sit in silence. 

 

I’d sit with my brows knitted together as I navigated a sea of “what ifs” and “if onlys.” I spent every fifteen-minute session staring at Seth as he lay there looking like he was only sleeping. 

 

Sometimes I’d pull up a stool and sit next to him and stare at him—I wasn’t allowed to touch him, which killed me. Looking past the tubes and wires, I’d trace the lines on his face with my eyes and gaze at his full lips, remembering how they felt against mine. I yearned to wake up from this nightmare, to feel his arms around me and to be safe in his care like I’d been for so long.

 

One month after the accident, it seemed like I was getting my miracle. Seth’s doctors finally got his brain swelling under control, so they were able to remove the drain. With the drain out, the doctors were able to make the call that they were seeing enough improvements to move Seth to a step-down unit.

 

“Really?” I gasped when Seth’s neurosurgeon delivered the news.

 

“Yes, really. But we’ll need to keep monitoring him closely.”

 

“Of course,” I said with a nod. My mom squeezed my hand and looked at me with excitement-filled, glistening eyes.

 

During Seth’s time in the Neuro-ICU, things had happened that I not only had no control over, but I had no say in. Procedures happened without me knowing they were taking place. And all of a sudden, they’d be finished with work that would have a lasting impact on Seth’s life. 

 

For example, while in the Neuro-ICU Seth received a tracheotomy, often simply called a trach. This procedure involves a tube being inserted into the throat via a small incision in the neck, in order to help the patient breathe and to bypass any airway blockages. 

 

He also had received a more permanent type of feeding tube. These procedures were performed out of immediate necessity. I had no idea that these had potential to become permanent and life sustaining pieces of Seth. Nor did I have any idea of the ethical, legal, or emotional implications of attempting to remove any of these interventions after an extended timeline. 

 

I did give permission over the phone for these procedures, but it was only after a brief conversation. 

 

The procedures and their implications were not explained to me in detail until after they were finished. I felt like I wasn’t Seth’s protector, nor was I seen as his wife—his other half. 

 

I was simply a witness to his care. 

 

I had no choice but to submit and wait for his release.

 

These procedures were performed out of immediate necessity. I had no idea that these had potential to become permanent and life-sustaining pieces of Seth. 

 

Nor did I have any idea of the ethical, legal, or emotional implications of attempting to remove any of these interventions after an extended timeline. 

 

Here are three reasons why you should have a strong durable power of attorney in place:

 

  1. A durable power of attorney remains “durable” or effective even if you suffer an incapacitating illness or accident. This means your agent can continue to make decisions on your behalf and based on your wishes, even when you cannot act for yourself.
  2. Without a durable power of attorney, you may be left with no one, or possibly too many, to represent your interests, such as your finances or business. A durable power of attorney gives you and your loved ones clarity about what you want when you may be unable to communicate.
  3. Even if you prepare a durable power of attorney, you can revoke or terminate it at any time, so long as you are mentally capable. If so, you can revise the durable power of attorney over time, as your needs and wishes change.

 

Preparing a durable power of attorney can provide your family and friends with the clarity they need during a difficult time.

 

Without a durable power of attorney, no one can represent you unless a court appoints a conservator or guardian. That court process takes time, costs money, and the judge may not choose the person you would prefer. In addition, under a guardianship or conservatorship, your representative may have to seek court permission to take planning steps that he/she could have implemented immediately under a simple durable power of attorney.

 

Medical Power of Attorney – designates an individual to make healthcare decisions for you when you are not capable of making those decisions for yourself. When selecting a healthcare agent, ask yourself if that person:

 

  • will be willing to speak on your behalf,
  • will be willing to act on your wishes,
  • lives close by or can travel if necessary,
  • knows you well,
  • will be able to handle the responsibility,
  • will talk to you about sensitive issues,
  • will listen to your wishes,
  • will be available if necessary,
  • will handle conflicting opinions, and
  • will be a strong advocate for you.

 

While much of estate planning focuses on finances, a comprehensive estate plan should also help you prepare for any potential medical or healthcare decisions you may need to make in the future. That’s why a medical power of attorney, also known as a durable power of attorney for healthcare, is essential.

 

You may feel you don’t need a medical power of attorney. For example, maybe you already have a living will as part of your estate plan, or perhaps you’ve already expressed your wishes to your loved ones about the kind of healthcare you want to receive if you become incapacitated.

 

For more information and details regarding a Power of Attorney, please visit: https://www.820foundation.org/resources/power-of-attorney/ 

We are not providing legal advice. All estate planning varies state by state. Please seek an attorney in your state for specific information and details.