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The Peninsula Gateway (Gig Harbor, Washington)
Distributed by McClatchy-Tribune Business News
January 16, 2013 Wednesday
A different Kevorkian hopes to confront end-of-life issues in Gig Harbor
by Will Livesley-O'Neill, The Peninsula Gateway (Gig Harbor, Wash.)
Jan. 16--Kristine Kevorkian of Gig Harbor has an unusual -- and very
recognizable -- last name, especially for someone involved with
end-of-life issues.
The most famous Kevorkian is Dr. Jack, the famed pathologist and
advocate for physician-assisted suicide. Kristine shares Armenian
heritage but has no family connection to the so-called "Dr. Death."
"Everybody and their brother would always ask if we were related," she said.
And because she considers herself a kindred spirit, she refers to the
late doctor, with his permission, as "Uncle Jack."
Kristine has confronted end-of-life issues since 1993, when, as a
student at Humboldt State University in northern California, she began
an internship in a hospice. She went to the school to study marine
biology and made the transition into social work, and she was assigned
the internship without any say in the matter.
"At the time, I didn't even know what a hospice was," Kristine said.
"But I took to it like a fish to water."
She knew right away it was what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.
"Working with the dying was fascinating to me," she said. "To be given
that honor, to be with somebody when they're dying -- they are the
most courageous people in the world."
Naturally, her name attracted attention for its connection to the
famous, and often infamous, doctor. Their relationship began in the
mid-1990s, after Kristine had been working in hospice for a few years,
including some time at a hospice in Everett, when she sent Jack a
letter of support at the height of the controversy over his assistance
in voluntary euthanasia procedures.
Jack was arrested in Michigan a few years later on charges of
second-degree murder for administering a lethal injection to a
patient, on camera, in a video broadcast on 60 Minutes.
Kristine reached out to the doctor's assistant while he was in prison,
and she slowly built a friendship with other members of Jack's inner
circle.
"We all really connected," Kristine said, adding that she grew close
with his staff members.
After she watched a news report critical of the doctor, Kristine wrote
an angry -- and non-proofread -- letter to Jennifer Granholm, the
governor of Michigan at the time. The letter found its way to Mike
Wallace of 60 Minutes, who had become closely acquainted with Jack.
Kristine soon found herself answering the phone to hear Wallace's
voice on the other end.
"It was really surreal," she said.
Kristine told Wallace she was embarrassed that she hadn't taken more
time to craft a thoughtful defense of the doctor in her letter, but he
told her not to worry.
"He said, 'Don't ever apologize. You have so much passion,' " Kristine recalled.
Jack heard about the letter, and a few years after he was released on
parole, Kristine finally got to meet him in person, at a 2011 lecture
at UCLA.
Kristine said the doctor told her to "take over where I left off" -- a
mandate, she said, to spread the word about end-of-life care.
"People thought he was a kook, and he wasn't," Kristine said. "He saw
a need. And, from my experience in hospice, there certainly is a
need."
The connection between hospice care and assisted suicide may not be
immediately apparent, and it can even seem contradictory -- much of
Kristine's work involves helping patients with a natural death, while
euthanasia induces death sooner.
But, Kristine said, her goal is to provide the dying with a level of
control over their experience, to manage their pain and the pain of
their families. She said that was Jack's goal as well.
"In hospice, there is some control that people can have in dying,"
Kristine said. "It doesn't have to be all about the pain and tubes and
everything."
She said she's seen medical professionals handle grief well, and she's
seen many examples of grief handled poorly.
"If you end up with a physician who isn't trained well (in grief and
loss), particularly in communication, you have someone who will have a
huge impact on the family," Kristine said. "I remember the people that
took care of my mother. That's never going to go away. If you have
someone who does a poor job, the family will end up thinking, 'What
could we have done differently?'"
Kristine believes better education is the solution to the problems she
identifies in end-of-life care. It's been the mission of her career
since she first became involved in hospice work.
After she studied at both Humboldt State and Delaware State, she
received her doctorate in thanatology, the scientific study of death.
No traditional accredited American universities offered a thanatology
program at the time, Kristine said, so she studied through Union
Institute and University, a nontraditional distance-learning school
where her doctoral committee consisted of experts from her wide field,
including the famed spiritualist Ram Dass.
During the past decade, Kristine has taught classes on grief and loss,
bereavement and aging issues at Antioch University in Los Angeles, the
University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire and the University of Hull in
England, where she helped to create continuing-education modules for
the National Health Service's end-of-life care program.
She moved to Gig Harbor this past May, for family reasons, and she
wants to bring her educational training to Tacoma Community College.
She has submitted a continuing education course proposal, for a
six-session class entitled "Dying and Death with Dr. Kevorkian," that
would serve as an introduction to thanatology and a discussion of the
grieving process, communicating death to children and other
end-of-life issues.
Tacoma Community College already offers classes in estate planning,
aging, caregiving and other related issues, Kristine said.
TCC has not yet responded to her proposal.
"I'm excited that they have all that stuff," Kristine said. "But let's
delve a little deeper."
Shawn Jennison, TCC's director of marketing and communications, said
the continuing education review board is still in the process of
looking over hundreds of submissions for classes.
"They haven't said no to anyone," Jennison said.
Kristine hopes that, if her class is approved, both medical
professionals and those outside the field will enroll. She believes
greater exposure to her teachings -- part of the legacy she upholds
from "Uncle Jack," to harness some command over death -- would benefit
everyone.
"It's offering somebody control (over the dying process)," she said of
her life's work. "And if people are taught this, they'll understand
the control they can have."
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress
Distributed by McClatchy-Tribune Business News
January 16, 2013 Wednesday
A different Kevorkian hopes to confront end-of-life issues in Gig Harbor
by Will Livesley-O'Neill, The Peninsula Gateway (Gig Harbor, Wash.)
Jan. 16--Kristine Kevorkian of Gig Harbor has an unusual -- and very
recognizable -- last name, especially for someone involved with
end-of-life issues.
The most famous Kevorkian is Dr. Jack, the famed pathologist and
advocate for physician-assisted suicide. Kristine shares Armenian
heritage but has no family connection to the so-called "Dr. Death."
"Everybody and their brother would always ask if we were related," she said.
And because she considers herself a kindred spirit, she refers to the
late doctor, with his permission, as "Uncle Jack."
Kristine has confronted end-of-life issues since 1993, when, as a
student at Humboldt State University in northern California, she began
an internship in a hospice. She went to the school to study marine
biology and made the transition into social work, and she was assigned
the internship without any say in the matter.
"At the time, I didn't even know what a hospice was," Kristine said.
"But I took to it like a fish to water."
She knew right away it was what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.
"Working with the dying was fascinating to me," she said. "To be given
that honor, to be with somebody when they're dying -- they are the
most courageous people in the world."
Naturally, her name attracted attention for its connection to the
famous, and often infamous, doctor. Their relationship began in the
mid-1990s, after Kristine had been working in hospice for a few years,
including some time at a hospice in Everett, when she sent Jack a
letter of support at the height of the controversy over his assistance
in voluntary euthanasia procedures.
Jack was arrested in Michigan a few years later on charges of
second-degree murder for administering a lethal injection to a
patient, on camera, in a video broadcast on 60 Minutes.
Kristine reached out to the doctor's assistant while he was in prison,
and she slowly built a friendship with other members of Jack's inner
circle.
"We all really connected," Kristine said, adding that she grew close
with his staff members.
After she watched a news report critical of the doctor, Kristine wrote
an angry -- and non-proofread -- letter to Jennifer Granholm, the
governor of Michigan at the time. The letter found its way to Mike
Wallace of 60 Minutes, who had become closely acquainted with Jack.
Kristine soon found herself answering the phone to hear Wallace's
voice on the other end.
"It was really surreal," she said.
Kristine told Wallace she was embarrassed that she hadn't taken more
time to craft a thoughtful defense of the doctor in her letter, but he
told her not to worry.
"He said, 'Don't ever apologize. You have so much passion,' " Kristine recalled.
Jack heard about the letter, and a few years after he was released on
parole, Kristine finally got to meet him in person, at a 2011 lecture
at UCLA.
Kristine said the doctor told her to "take over where I left off" -- a
mandate, she said, to spread the word about end-of-life care.
"People thought he was a kook, and he wasn't," Kristine said. "He saw
a need. And, from my experience in hospice, there certainly is a
need."
The connection between hospice care and assisted suicide may not be
immediately apparent, and it can even seem contradictory -- much of
Kristine's work involves helping patients with a natural death, while
euthanasia induces death sooner.
But, Kristine said, her goal is to provide the dying with a level of
control over their experience, to manage their pain and the pain of
their families. She said that was Jack's goal as well.
"In hospice, there is some control that people can have in dying,"
Kristine said. "It doesn't have to be all about the pain and tubes and
everything."
She said she's seen medical professionals handle grief well, and she's
seen many examples of grief handled poorly.
"If you end up with a physician who isn't trained well (in grief and
loss), particularly in communication, you have someone who will have a
huge impact on the family," Kristine said. "I remember the people that
took care of my mother. That's never going to go away. If you have
someone who does a poor job, the family will end up thinking, 'What
could we have done differently?'"
Kristine believes better education is the solution to the problems she
identifies in end-of-life care. It's been the mission of her career
since she first became involved in hospice work.
After she studied at both Humboldt State and Delaware State, she
received her doctorate in thanatology, the scientific study of death.
No traditional accredited American universities offered a thanatology
program at the time, Kristine said, so she studied through Union
Institute and University, a nontraditional distance-learning school
where her doctoral committee consisted of experts from her wide field,
including the famed spiritualist Ram Dass.
During the past decade, Kristine has taught classes on grief and loss,
bereavement and aging issues at Antioch University in Los Angeles, the
University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire and the University of Hull in
England, where she helped to create continuing-education modules for
the National Health Service's end-of-life care program.
She moved to Gig Harbor this past May, for family reasons, and she
wants to bring her educational training to Tacoma Community College.
She has submitted a continuing education course proposal, for a
six-session class entitled "Dying and Death with Dr. Kevorkian," that
would serve as an introduction to thanatology and a discussion of the
grieving process, communicating death to children and other
end-of-life issues.
Tacoma Community College already offers classes in estate planning,
aging, caregiving and other related issues, Kristine said.
TCC has not yet responded to her proposal.
"I'm excited that they have all that stuff," Kristine said. "But let's
delve a little deeper."
Shawn Jennison, TCC's director of marketing and communications, said
the continuing education review board is still in the process of
looking over hundreds of submissions for classes.
"They haven't said no to anyone," Jennison said.
Kristine hopes that, if her class is approved, both medical
professionals and those outside the field will enroll. She believes
greater exposure to her teachings -- part of the legacy she upholds
from "Uncle Jack," to harness some command over death -- would benefit
everyone.
"It's offering somebody control (over the dying process)," she said of
her life's work. "And if people are taught this, they'll understand
the control they can have."
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress