Daniel Hauburger

My father's name was Daniel Hauburger. He was a hardworking, creative man who loved crafts, wood working and his flowers. He was surrounded by a hardworking family. We all stayed and worked in Connecticut and saw each other and supported each other.

I need to tell you about the kind of care my father received during the last months of his life. He was old, had cancer and was diabetic, – but that does not mean that he was not alive and fully cognizant of what was going on around him and to him.

During the last months he had several hospitalizations. And these hospitalizations have led me to ask questions about how our "health care" prolonged his suffering and indeed, seemed to have caused some of it:

• Bed sores that became infected. At home, he slept in a chair because of congestive heart failure. When he was hospitalized, they put him in a bed where he was incredibly uncomfortable, scared and not moved frequently enough, nor cleaned well enough, to prevent bedsores that became infected.
• He had a living will, but he was repeatedly asked if he wanted to be treated. He was ready to die and choosing not to eat, but was still given hormone shots, insulin treatments. "I don't want to be here". He said it over and over again. A sleeping pill made him psychotic and then he had to be restrained. He wanted to go home to die but they kept treating and treating him.

We felt powerless. Whatever happened to dignity and commonsense? If my father had been seen as a person and not an income stream, his treatment would have been far different. We need to listen to people and meet their needs, not hospitals or doctor's bottom line.