On Yom Kippur, while contemplating our mortality, we ask “Who shall live, and who shall die?” Expanding on that question, the Academy Award-nominated documentary short “Extremis” wants us also to consider: Who shall die without heroic measures?
The film, moving along as if to the whoosh of a ventilator and the beep of a heart monitor at only 24 minutes, manages to take us, beat by beat, through the end-of-life decisions of several patients in the intensive care unit of Highland Hospital in Oakland.
For those who already have lived this documentary with a beloved family member or friend, the film explores a familiar territory of the life-and-death decisions that we make for ourselves and for others, and how, through our perceptions of human suffering, dignity and spirituality, we come to them. But for those who have yet to travel to these rooms of too-white walls, it presents a roadmap of the challenges ahead, the clarity we must find in the often chaotic ICU environment to reach a peaceful, dignified death.
In “Extremis,” Krauss documents, through a nonjudgmental point of view, how two families and their loved ones — Selena, who has suffered severe brain damage, and Donna, a woman with severe myotonic dystrophy, muscle degeneration — decide on a course of action.
“I’m a 44-year-old guy with two young kids and a happy life. Why would I spend three months in the ICU with people who are nearing end-of-life?” Krauss said in an interview with the Journal, wrestling with the question of why he felt compelled to pursue the project. “Death is a subject that I am not comfortable with,” he admitted. “Artists, people who do creative work, often are addressing their own fears in their work, and we have to force ourselves to march in the direction of our fear.”
A Jew who doesn’t see himself as person of great spirituality, Krauss said that at the outset of the project he had very little awareness of the decision-making in an ICU.
But as he began to acclimate to that environment, “I did witness moments of quiet beauty, and I started to appreciate the ICU as a place where faith and science collide in a fascinating way,” he said.
Along with those moments in the ICU, Krauss said he was struck “by the burden that was placed on the medical staff,” including the times when he witnessed Dr. Jessica Zitter being “very frank with families about the likelihood of their loved one recovering.” Yet, “very often,” he added, “those families were grateful to have someone give it to them straight and not sugarcoat it.”
Giving bad news, knowing when and how to say it, were not skills Zitter obtained at med school. “We are not taught that communication of bad news is a skill like any other, like intubating a patient or putting in a big catheter,” she told the Journal. “We practice those skills over and over again, but we don’t practice the skills of communication, which I would argue are the most important of all.” (…) Read Full Publication Here