Onward Christian Soldiers! - Kansas abortion doctor killed.

[mcgonser]

First of all I have in no way advocated the murder of the doctor. That is not the way to handle these situations.
2nd-If it is medically necessary can they not go to a hospital for this procedure? Not an abortion clinic.
3rd-I will not prove anything to you, you guys don't listen anyway. I stated my oipinion and really don't care if you agree. I don't need your permission.
4th -this is a public forum and everyone has the right to post their opinion. No one side (however wrong) has the only right to post. This is not a good old boys club that I can see.
5th-was or were Ex, as usual you are being an ass about peoples grammar and spelling. Fire away, It means nothing.

[LOsborne]

... when women undergo such a procedure, did you know they develop cancer at a much higher rate??? This is an extremely dangerous procedure to the woman too.

The truth about induced abortion and breast cancer risk from the World Health Organization:

http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs240/en/index.html

And the moral is, don't blow smoke when you can't back it up with a source.

[LOsborne]

2nd-If it is medically necessary can they not go to a hospital for this procedure? Not an abortion clinic.

Gotta address this one, Mac. The reason for the clinic instead of the hospital is INSURANCE (also known as Public Enemy Number one.) Clinics will perform this as an out-patient procedure. Hospitals insist on admitting the patient, with the accompanying room charges and $4.00 acetaminophen tablets. I found this out when my first child died in utero at five months. I had a miscarriage, not an abortion, but the insurance company wasn't interested in such fine distinctions.

[mcgonser]

Thanks for answering my question LO: I was curious about that, but see now what the difference is.

[LOsborne]

You're welcome, Mac. I hope you know I would never ridicule your opinion, just because it isn't mine. I always find your thoughts worth reading. (me's too.)

Just because I'm a pagan anarchist instead of a conservative Christian is no reason to be rude. Besides, I like the way you express yourself.

[Exterminator]

You're welcome, Mac. I hope you know I would never ridicule your opinion, just because it isn't mine.

Good; that's my job.   

[Palehorse]

 

[LOsborne]

Good; that's my job.   

And you do it very well, Ex. By the way, thanks for adding some variety to the insults. The others seem to be following your lead. Makes for a much more productive morning session on here for me. I steal all the best lines to use at work.

[Palehorse]

If any of you listen to Coast-to-Coast radio overnight, did you hear the caller that praised the whacknut who did this live on the air???

The host didn't recognize the name and so the delay was of no help. But once he did he made a point of stating that he totally disagreed with the previous caller. . .

I actually do not listen to it live, but listen to a replay in the early morning during my commute.

[Locutus]

The following is a letter from a lady who had a late term abortion to then candidate Barack Obama.



Dear Sen. Barack Obama,

You recently spoke with Cameron Strang, publisher of Relevant magazine. During that interview, Strang asked if you could clarify your position on "third-trimester and partial-birth abortion," and you replied:

"...I have repeatedly said that I think it's entirely appropriate for states to restrict or even prohibit late-term abortions as long as there is a strict, well-defined exception for the health of the mother. Now, I don't think that "mental distress" qualifies as the health of the mother. I think it has to be a serious physical issue that arises in pregnancy, where there are real, significant problems to the mother carrying that child to term. Otherwise, as long as there is such a medical exception in place, I think we can prohibit late-term abortions."

Your response leads me to believe that you've either never had a one-on-one discussion with a woman who has had a late-term abortion, or that you've been too uncomfortable to ask such a woman difficult questions concerning not only the procedure but what led her to make that choice. Because a president needs to be given as much first-hand knowledge as possible as he develops policy, I'd like to help remedy this deficiency.


Thirteen years ago I had a late term abortion.

That's the concise sentence I use when I don't want to talk about what really happened. It takes all the emotion, all the family turmoil, all the medical terminology and all the grief, and packages it nice and neat. The listener is momentarily left speechless — long enough for me to walk away. Few follow as I retreat because only a select few really want to get beyond the politically charged debate that's fueled by marketing consultant jargon such as "partial-birth abortion."

Since by sheer virtue of space I cannot possibly offer you everything you need to know in this letter, I am making a promise that if you call or if we meet I will not give you any pat responses. I will do my best to open old wounds and allow my personal experience to become your own. In case you elect not to make good on this offer, I will provide what I can here.

Thirteen years ago I was married, living in a midsize southern town and caring for my then-3-year-old daughter. We attended church each Sunday, and I taught Sunday school and sang in the choir. I was thrilled when I learned that I was expecting a second child, and we announced the news to family and friends.

Around 20 weeks into the pregnancy my obstetrician scheduled a routine ultrasound at a nearby rural hospital. The technician was chatty as we walked from the waiting room. After we arrived and cool gel had been placed on my abdomen, she continued to talk as she moved the wand back and forth. A few moments later her movements slowed, she stopped talking and her skin paled. The ultrasound machine, which had originally been placed where I could see the image on the screen, was moved out of my line of sight. Her fingers began quick movements on the keyboard.

At the end of the exam, I was given a warm cloth to clean the gel and was asked to wait in a nearby chair. Soon a different worker came into the room and told me that I'd need to return the following day for a more intensive scan. I agreed and left.

The scene drastically changed the following day when I arrived for the second scan. First, my obstetrician was the one who met me in the waiting room. When we walked into the room with the equipment, I was quickly introduced to two other doctors and a woman who would be performing the scan. I immediately felt like a bug under a microscope. No one paid much attention to me. They all gathered around the ultrasound screen — something I was never allowed to view — and spoke in soft voices while pointing at the pictures.

When they had finished their work, I was told that they needed to review the scan. I was instructed to go get something to eat and then meet my doctor back at his office a short time later. I was nervous and confused, but didn't see the point in arguing. I left and lit a candle in the chapel. Then I walked around the downtown area until time to meet with the doctor.

Nothing seemed uniquely odd when I arrived at the doctor's office. The nurses and receptionist greeted me as they had throughout the pregnancy. I was asked to sit in the waiting room for a short time before I was called back. Instead of being placed in an exam room, however, I was ushered into the doctor's office. He sat behind a large desk and motioned me into a brown leather chair opposite him. He didn't start the conversation by telling me how sorry he was. Instead, he began by telling me the findings of the ultrasound scan from that morning.

He looked me in the eye and said, "Anencephaly." I looked back at him, hearing the word but not understanding its meaning. "That's the worst of the neural tube defects," he said and paused again. I just stared at him and nodded. "Severe spina bifida would be bad enough, but the anencephaly..." He looked at me and then toward a box of tissues.

"Lynda," he said, "do you hear what I'm saying?" I nodded again. "Anencephaly," he repeated as if that one word should give me all the information I needed.

He looked as if he wanted to shake me, to force me to understand the word so that he wouldn't be forced beyond the shield of medical terminology.

"You know, I thought about this yesterday after the first scan," I told him. "I realize that there is probably something wrong with our baby, but whatever it is, I plan to deal with it."

He looked down at his desk blotter and then said in a very soft voice, "There will be no baby, Lynda. This baby is going to die."

I'm not exactly sure what I did immediately after that. The next thing I remember is driving the 30-some miles toward home. I had a packet of information from the doctor's office on the seat beside me. At the top of the packet was the phone number of another doctor who was expecting my call later that day.

I did call that doctor, and, when he gave me the same information as my original doctor, I phoned another doctor. Then I contacted a fourth and finally a fifth. I was ready to drive or fly, beg or steal whatever it took to make this child "OK" again.

On the day that demolition teams leveled the tattered remains of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City, I gazed out from the windows of the University of Oklahoma Hospital. I knew the doctors at that facility had a great deal of knowledge when it came to neonatal conditions. I also knew that they were probably my last hope.

The differences in what happened that day and what had taken place in the weeks before were striking. The screen showing the ultrasound images was not only turned to face me, but it was moved very close and provided me the very best view of anyone in the room. After the initial diagnostic scan was complete, all staff left the room except for the one doctor. He sat on a stool and wheeled around so that he could be right at my bedside. He showed me images from the scan we had just taken and held up pictures from "normal" scans. One by one, he went through each of the differences, explaining each in graphic detail. When we had finished with the scans, he sat them on a nearby table and grabbed a stack of books that contained medical pictures — photographs of infants who had similar defects as the child I was carrying. He went through those slowly as well, allowing me time to ask a question or to turn away and cry.

By the time we had gone through it all, I finally understood. The child I carried remained alive only because of his connection to me. For all practical purposes, I was serving as a life support system and, as soon as that system was removed, he would die.

Several days passed while my family debated the decision on whether or not to terminate the pregnancy. In the interim the doctor from the university hospital took my case before a state medical board for permission. Because the term of my pregnancy was well outside the state's legal limits for abortion, a special ruling had to be made. The doctor explained that receiving such approval would not require me to go through with terminating if I decided not to do so, but would save time if I decided that was the route I wished to take.

We did eventually make the decision to terminate the pregnancy instead of carrying to term. It wasn't a decision we made lightly. It wasn't a decision that brought us relief or joy. We just knew that for us — for our family — it was the best of several horrific options.

When I phoned the doctor the next day to let him know our decision, he had news of his own to share. The state had denied our waiver, mandating that we would have to carry until either the child died or my body began labor on its own. The doctor provided our family with the name of a doctor in a nearby state that did not have the same legal requirements. Had the state board permitted the waiver, our insurance would have been obligated to pay for the procedure. Instead, it took us several more days to raise enough money to pay the out-of-pocket medical expenses and the travel expenses.

The procedure took two very long and agonizing days. This was not because I was in a state of physical pain, but because of the emotional toll. Whether a loved one's departure is expected or not, it is never easy to say goodbye.

I've learned a great deal in the 13 years that have followed. I've met other women who were also forced to say goodbye to children because of anencephaly, a neural tube defect that results in the absence of brain and skull. Some of those women, like me, chose to terminate their pregnancies. Others opted to carry to term. We all grieve our losses.

For a long time I felt guilty, that maybe I took the "easy way" out of a difficult situation. After all, I did not have to stand in line at the grocery store while strangers made small talk about my pregnancy. I didn't have to answer difficult questions from my three-year-old daughter. I didn't have to lie awake for nights on end dreading the time when my body would ultimately betray me and begin labor.

When I finally broke down to a friend who had carried her anencephalic child to term about my personal guilt, she cried and told me that she had always thought she had taken the "easy way" out. Because of her strong desire for her older children to have a solid support system, she felt as if she could not terminate the pregnancy — that family and friends would not accept the decision and that, therefore, they would not make themselves available to shoulder the family's grief afterward.

The two of us have come to understand that there is no "easy way" out of the situation we were handed. We both did what we thought was best for our families at that moment in time.

I've been asked on several occasions to share my experience with late term abortion. To date I've spoken with people who run the gamut of views in the reproductive health debate.

When I end my story, it is always with the question that I would like for you to answer now:

"If your loved one was placed on life support and attending physicians said there was no chance of life continuing without the machines, who do you want to make the decision as to when and if life support is removed?"

http://iowaindependent.com/2565/open-letter-to-obama-a-personal-perspective-on-late-term-abortion

[Locutus]

Now I ask again.  What gives ANYONE the right based on religious or moral beliefs, to stick their noses into the business of families like those of Ms. Waddington who find themselves in need of late term abortions? 

I posit nobody has that right.  Not the church, and not the government.  Nobody.

[Henry Hawk]

Now I ask again.  What gives ANYONE the right based on religious or moral beliefs, to stick their noses into the business of families like those of Ms. Waddington who find themselves in need of late term abortions? 

I posit nobody has that right.  Not the church, and not the government.  Nobody.

My own personal opinion is.......Doctors make mistakes....I'm not saying THIS was a mistake, but there are plenty of stories out there where Doctors declare a terminal illness, and for whatever reason, they turned out to be wrong...to not give the baby every chance at life is a travesty....God forbid anyone who HAS to go through what this lady did....I have much sympathy for her, and I know it was a tough choice for her.........to compare this to a loved one who has ALREADY lived, is not a fair one in my opinion.

Unless the mothers life is endangered (which is very rare )...I believe we got to protect and give the unborn a chance at life........and I do have much compassion for situations like this one, but for those who 'chose' to abort as means of birth control...should be breaking a law...and especially those in clinics who treat this like pulling a wisdom tooth.

I know in MOST cases, it is an extremely tough choice........I know if my 15 year old daughter was to become pregnant, it would be a devastating event...........but, to simply destroy, a life, for selfish reasons, is unthinkable, IN MY OPINION.

[mcgonser]

I have got to take some time off from these forums. I cried all day when late term abortions were described in detail for the poor little lost souls.
Then I am and will continue to cry over this tragic story too. It is a classic case for the right to abortion.
So you see I can see both sides of the issue and weep for both sides.
I never said that late term abortions should not ever be done. There is always a reason for some and this is one. I am against late term abortions for the abuse of it. For birth control or for selfish reasons.
I agree with Hawk that without the absolute proof this mother had as to severe birth defects,but only on the reason of possible or could be problems a late term abortion should be rethought. Because of a fair chance of being wrong in this diagnosis, the child should be given the option to live.
That is all that I have to say about this tragic and soul wretching topic. Case closed

[Locutus]

I have got to take some time off from these forums. I cried all day when late term abortions were described in detail for the poor little lost souls.

Here's another very interesting question along these lines, since I'm not so sure you're as done as you say you are. 

Why do you refer to them as "poor little lost souls" in your post?  If your religion, which causes you to rail upon this practice in the first place is to be believed, why indeed are they "lost" souls?  You can't have it both ways.  If your religion is to be believed, then they aren't lost.  If they indeed aren't lost, then you shouldn't be so worried about them, especially to the extent your fellow believers will go to in order to stick their noses into other people's business. 

[LOsborne]

Why do you refer to them as "poor little lost souls" in your post?  If your religion, which causes you to rail upon this practice in the first place is to be believed, why indeed are they "lost" souls?  You can't have it both ways.  If your religion is to be believed, then they aren't lost.  If they indeed aren't lost, then you shouldn't be so worried about them, especially to the extent your fellow believers will go to in order to stick their noses into other people's business. 

Good question, Locutus. I have often wondered this myself. With no black marks against them, wouldn't these "souls" go back to the waiting room, as it were? Kind of like the whole thing was a rain-out, and now things can be rescheduled when conditions are better? I realize that sounds facetious, but really, what do the devout pro-lifers think is going to happen to these unformed kids that is so much worse than being condemned to a short life of suffering?