Alive inside

Military and first responders trapped in a mental twilight deserve expanded coverage.

“Shots fired, officer down! Shots fired, officer down!”

Those dreaded words were shouted out last summer in Baton Rouge, La., after sheriff ’s deputy Nick Tullier and five other law enforcement officials were gunned down in an ambush attack. Tullier barely survived three bullets, one to the head.

After Tullier’s doctor in Louisiana suggested that the family discuss whether to remove the feeding tube, his family moved him to TIRR Memorial Hermann, one of a very few rehabilitation hospitals offering specialized programs to assess and treat patients like him.

As reported by Mike Hixenbaugh in the Chronicle series “Alive Inside,” TIRR doctors determined Tullier wasn’t in a coma or a vegetative state, as previously thought. The 41-year-old knew who he was and where he was but could do little to show it. He was drifting in the netherworld between consciousness and brain death.

Tullier is not alone; an estimated one-quarter of a million people with consciousness disorders are warehoused in acute care facilities and nursing homes across the country. In “Alive Inside,” Hixenbaugh raises important questions, such as: What is a life worth living? And who gets to decide? Is it right to remove a feeding tube or a ventilator from someone who might, on some basic level, be aware of what’s happening?

As a society we are still finding our way to these answers, just as Tullier and his family are still fighting their way to recovery.

However, one thing is as crystal clear as Tullier’s bravery: Congress needs to take care of our first responders like Tullier, as well as military personnel who are injured in the line of duty. In an ideal world, all of the minimally conscious should have their needs met. Given limited resources, Congress should at least accept responsibility for those whose lives were unalterably changed while protecting society from harm.

As a first step, U.S. Sens. Lamar Alexander, R-Tenn., chair of the Senate Labor and Human Resources Committee, and Patty Murray, D-Wash., the ranking member, should appoint a blue ribbon committee of scientists, faith leaders, ethicists, medical personnel and families to study the minimally conscious state and to establish a set of protocols for patients with consciousness disorder.

Tullier has indicated that he wants to keep doing rehab even on days when it appears to be causing him pain. Yet, despite the deputy’s significant progress, the company that manages his insurance plan sent notice that it was cutting him off from inpatient rehab and around-the-clock nursing care.

There’s nothing wrong with insurance companies asking questions and demanding proof of improvement to continue to fund rehab, but brain injuries don’t heal quickly. These patients should have the time needed to recover.

Following a public outcry, insurance officials agreed to let Tullier continue to receive some hours at TIRR’s outpatient clinic in Houston, but only after his family endured a period of agonizing uncertainty. It’s wrong that there’s no guarantee how long his rehab will continue to be funded.

Tullier’s girlfriend, Danielle McNicoll, found a text the deputy had written after a sniper shot a dozen police officers in Dallas last year, killing five. He’d told her he was angry that cops had been targeted, but he refused to go to work fearing for his life.

“I promise that if and when that time should come, I won’t die easy,” Tullier had written to her. Tullier is fulfilling that promise to McNicoll and to his family. He’s doing his best by undergoing the hard and painful rehab required to make progress.

Now it’s on Congress and our nation to do our part to give him and others like him the opportunity to return to their lives.