Schiavo right-to-life case brings back memories of one local family's tragedy

The case of Teri Schiavo in Florida has split the nation on a whether an incapacitated person should be allowed to live or die without having given consent either way.

But for Stockton resident Florence Wendland, 82, the case recalls painful memories of the past -- a time when she was fighting for the life of her adult son Robert, who lived for eight years in a partial vegetative state.

Robert Wendland

Much like Schiavo's family today, Florence Wendland fought for years with Robert's wife, Rose Wendland, for the right to keep her son alive.

In 1993, 43-year-old Stockton resident Robert Wendland drove his truck off an embankment at the junction of Interstate 5 and Highway 12 in what police identified as a drunk driving accident. He was immediately taken to Lodi Memorial Hospital, where he slipped into a coma that would last 16 months.

When Robert Wendland awoke, half his body was paralyzed. The other half was not fully functioning. He was found to have suffered brain damage.

Like Schiavo's parents, Robert and Mary Schindler, Florence Wendland claimed her son was not completely vegetative and should be given a chance at life.

Florence Wendland said on Monday that her son had been making improvement and could make eye contact and give emotional responses, despite doctors' diagnoses that his quality of life would never improve.

"He could do a lot of things," Florence Wendland said. "You could tell he was slowly learning."

Rose Wendland, however, would later claim in court that she had talked with her husband weeks before the accident. He had told her in casual conversation that he would not want to live by artificial means.

Florence Wendland

Florence Wendland said she doesn't believe her son ever had that conversation with his wife.

Rose Wendland could not be reached for comment Monday.

Legal battle

Robert Wendland spent the last eight years of his life in the long-term care unit of Lodi Memorial Hospital West. Like Schiavo, Wendland was kept alive by a feeding tube that connected to his stomach.

He had been a patient for about two years when Rose Wendland sought a court order to have her husband's feeding tubes removed.

In January 1996, the case came before San Joaquin County Superior Court Judge Bob McNatt, who had only been on the bench for four months, where he'd come from a position as the Lodi city attorney.

McNatt, who is now the presiding judge for the San Joaquin County Superior Court, said Monday that the Wendland case was and will most likely be the most difficult case to ever come before him.

When he first heard of the Schiavo case, McNatt said it brought back a flood of memories from the Wendland case.

Rose Wendland

"That's one case I'll never forget," McNatt said. "There's no heavier burden you can carry than the responsibility for the life of another human being."

He extended empathy for the judges assigned to the Schiavo case.

The fight over whether Robert Wendland should live or die was a legal battle that lasted months after his death of complications from pneumonia in July 2001.

Florence Wendland said she sees many similarities between the Teri Schiavo case and that of her son. For example, Teri Schiavo's husband, Michael Schiavo, also claimed to have had a conversation about what to do in case she was ever in a serious accident. Like Robert and Marcy Schindler, Wendland believes her son's spouse was acting in her own best interest.

Her heart goes out to Schiavo's parents, she said.

"This man pops up after all these years and says she wouldn't want to live like that," Florence Wendland said of Michael Schiavo. "Maybe he just wants her out of the way."

Florence Wendland added that because Rose Wendland was her son's sole conservator, she doesn't know whether he was cremated or buried, or where his remains might be kept.

Final ruling

On Aug. 9, 2001, the California Supreme Court decided in favor of Florence Wendland. Judges ruled that relatives cannot remove feeding and hydration tubes from a patient who is not in a persistent vegetative state of unconscious, but is otherwise incapacitated.

The ruling set a precedent for how similar cases in California are dealt with in the future, McNatt said.

Florence Wendland said Monday that justice was served that day, though she's still left with bittersweet memories of her son's final days.

"(I remember) sometimes how a tear would roll down his cheek when we'd be talking about something sad," Florence Wendland recalled. "He was a good guy."

Carol Farron, spokeswoman for Lodi Memorial, said the case also left an indelible mark on hospital staff who cared for Robert Wendland for years until his death. She added that there are many similarities between the Wendland case and the Schiavo case.

"Based on their merit, the cases seem exactly the same," Farron said. "Only now, it's a national debate."

Both cases, she added, are extremely tragic, though the legal battles could have been prevented with some advanced planning.

Like Robert Wendland, Terri Schiavo supposedly told her spouse she would not wish to live out her life in a hospital, but never put her request into writing. A formal document, called an advanced directive, would have made her wishes known to both her doctor and family members.

In Lodi, advanced directives are available at Lodi Memorial Hospital's admissions office or can be downloaded at the hospitals Web site, http://www.lodihealth.org.

Fewer than 25 percent of Americans have written advanced directives before they become ill, according to the American Journal of Critical Care.

It is something that the staff at Lodi Memorial would like to see change, Farron said.

"People should be talking about this now while their healthy," Farron said. "You don't want to make these decisions after the fact."

Contact reporter Sara Cardine at sarac@lodinews.com.