Just four hours earlier, Sallie Cutler had been sharing Mother’s Day lunch with her mom, Alyce Cheatham.
Then, that same evening, Cheatham, 96, landed in a Portland, Ore., emergency room, lethargic, unable to speak and paralyzed on her right side by a massive stroke.
Cutler now admits her first impulse was to demand action.
But Cheatham’s medical records contained a different demand. When the doctor on duty at Oregon Health and Science University clicked once in the chart header, it was immediately clear: Cheatham wanted no efforts to prolong her life.
“It’s, like, do something; make her better,” said Cutler. “As a child, you can’t just say let her die.”
But Cheatham’s medical records contained a different demand. When the doctor on duty at Oregon Health and Science University clicked once in the chart header, it was immediately clear: Cheatham wanted no efforts to prolong her life.
“He said, ‘The good news is, your mom had a POLST form, so you don’t really have any decisions to make,’” recalled Cutler, 63, of Sherwood, Ore.
“I was so relieved. I cannot tell you how relieved I was. She had made all the decisions for me ahead of time.”
POLST forms, formally known as Physician Orders for Life Sustaining Treatment, have become a staple in care for the fragile or seriously ill. They document in detail what kind of medical treatments patients want — or don’t want — at the end of life. Nearly every state in the U.S. has a program; dozens are established or developing.