Oct 14
The Right to Die by Persephone
Recently, one morning on the BBC1 TV Breakfast programme, I watched an interview with Terry Pratchett. He is one of those rare children’s authors, like Phillip Pullman, who write so wonderfully that adults buy their books by the thousand.
Pratchett has a type of Alzheimers that does not yet affect his ability to create. He has been very public about his disease and its progress within him. This morning he revealed the fact that he now ‘talks’ his books into his computer, as the keyboard has become difficult for him to navigate.
Quite spontaneously he hinted about his ‘time to die’, and was gently encouraged to enlarge on that. Clearly and precisely he spoke of anyone’s rights, while still able to make a decision, to choose the manner of their death.
Pratchett’s own preferred method is to sit at home, listening to his favourite classical music and to drink whatever he had to drink – laced with his favourite brandy. A good death I would say.
Recently, there has been a resurgence of news items discussing this whole question. The emphasis has been on some of the physical and legal difficulties of traveling from the UK to Switzerland, where taking this step is supported.
We are all going to die. My own belief is that I also, along with everyone else, have the right to choose the manner of my own death, as far as is possible. A simple clear legal document, signed when still in my right mind could ease any fears.
In this country we, with compassion and care, do not hesitate to give our dogs or cats a speedy and painless death if they are suffering. Yet we often helplessly subject our nearest and dearest to lengthy, painful, distressing and frightening experiences at the very end of their lives. This also adds to the distress of families and loved ones concerned.
In my work as a funeral celebrant I visit many homes of the bereaved. Occasionally there are emotional, angry and bitter stories of what was seen as the totally unnecessary suffering of a loved one. On the other side of the coin, of course, many people do die a perfectly natural and peaceful death.
When I lived in Australia I helped care for a friend dying of terminal cancer in hospital. He was in great pain while specialists scratched their heads – knowing there was nothing they could do. The palliative care, ‘though of a high standard did not work after a certain stage – any higher doses would have killed him and were not allowed.
Late one evening, towards the end, his favourite nurse was gently washing him, and asked if he would like me to give him a hug. “Yes please” he said. My hug made him smile. She looked at me, and then bent gently and gave him a morphine injection. Gradually he died so very peacefully. No words were spoken, but I am as certain as I can be that compassion ruled over out-of-date laws.
My experience in that hospital strengthened my desire to choose the manner of my own death. I am now seventy–six and often perform funeral celebrations for people younger than me. So, thoughts of my own are present from time to time. I am not afraid of death itself, but am afraid of the manner of my dying. Not a brave person where pain is concerned, I have already asked two of the people closest to me in my life whether, if necessary, they would accompany me to Switzerland. They both agreed, without hesitation.
I would much prefer not to have to travel that distance. Right now that would be my only legal course of action, which would involve huge expense and much grief to those dear ones. This is so unnecessary. Providing some comprehensive legal document had been signed, I could die peacefully at home with whomsoever might choose to be with me.
Obviously, there are a multitude of arguments for and against that I haven’t included in this article. Right now that is not the point, they will be argued for a long time before a decision one way or the other is made.
This is just one older woman’s simple personal view. However, I am certain there are more of you out there who think as I do. There are also others who very definitely don’t. Which would you choose? Can we have a conversation?
Persephone
October 17th, 2009 at 7:35 am
Having read your feelings on the right to die, I decided I would simply agree whole heartedly with you. However, somehow it seemed not enough.
Having stood by helplessly as both my parents died of cancer and watching the long drawn out process of keeping them alive for no other reason than legality, still remains with me to this day. I believe that as long as the decision of when to terminate a human life is left in the hands of the medical world, the state and even some relatives, the situation will remain at status quo.
Somehow they seem to forget the very person that should be allowed to make their feelings felt. We give the dead respect, reverence and dignity. Why can we not do the same before they die? I understand that at point of transition there are many emotions involved, and the idea of thinking clearly becomes impossible. That is why I believe as you do, that giving the decision directly to the gravely ill or dying person – as early as possible, is what this whole question is about.
Sometimes, I wonder about the sanity of this world. We stand by and watch while thousands of people die of starvation in countries we have never even heard of, and yet fight tooth and nail to keep a person who is so obviously dying, alive.
October 19th, 2009 at 7:29 am
My fascination with death was prompted by the deaths of my father in 1988 and six weeks later a dear woman who was a mother figure. I had lost two very significant people in my life, and wanted more than anything to understand and make peace with this ‘thing’ known as death.
In 1989 I began working with AIDS in Western Australia. This journey was to continue for six years culminating with the final two years managing a Respite House that served as a hospice for those dying of AIDS. I witnessed angry deaths, stoical deaths, peaceful deaths, fearful deaths, drawn out deaths, many of them brought to a conclusion with the help of a morphine injection.
I remember the love, compassion and most importantly the physical affection that was given to all of those we cared for. I also have clear recollections of those I knew in the community that had the early symptoms of AIDS. They ‘self-delivered’ because they knew what was to come and did not want to lose their autonomy, suffering the indignities of a slow, drawn out shutting down of their body and its functions.
I respected and honoured their choice. I respected their right to make their own decisions about their own lives, how and when they were to end.
Those of us who are happy, healthy, and then dead, are indeed the fortunate ones. For those of us who are to experience something like cancer, there is the likelihood of a long drawn out dying process.
As you say Persephone…”I am not afraid of death itself, but am afraid of the manner of my dying”. I too feel the same way.
I agree that the process in the book: ‘Deathing’ by Anya Foos, may not be easy to experience or master. Hell, I have difficulty meditating as it is!. However, it does suggest the possibility of being able to experience a conscious death, especially in longer illnesses. For me, that would include not choosing medical interventions (apart from pain relief). I would like to have the grace and dignity to accept and willingly go with the process. It is probably easier said than done though. If my death could be helped along in some way, I would be all for it.
I know the shutting down process of the body is not a quick process. It can take days. This is when I too would love to have the choice of sitting back with music and a concoction and sip my way into the twilight zone with whomsoever wants to be with me. And, there are many who will want to hang on tooth and nail to every last drop of life, of that I have no doubt. That is their privilege.
So Persephone, I agree with you. Maybe a conscious death is nothing more than having the awareness to know when it is time….. and exercising the right to cease being on this planet, if so chosen.
Marie-Elise
October 19th, 2009 at 12:40 pm
How refreshing and encouraging is the fact that so many people are now prepared to talk about and break the taboos surrounding death and dying. I have just completed my training as Soul Midwife and am eager to start work in this field. It is so interesting to note that as babies we don’t get to choose our birth (except maybe by those inspirational/spiritual mothers who think to ask their babies). After having lived a full life I feel it is a mark of respect to allow a soul to choose how they depart. All of our lives we are dictated to by society and governments etc. as to how we “should be” living. So, surely this one last event should be down to the unique individual with as much love, guidance and compassion as possible.
I agree with James that we spend many hours and resources keeping a soul alive when it is probably much kinder to just them go. More spiritual education perhaps is called for at this point to break down the fears surrounding death and what is on the other side. When my time comes I will certainly be looking for “good death” and I hope to help others achieve the same, so long it is of their choosing.
November 11th, 2009 at 9:48 am
Persephone, your invitation to join you in a conversation around death has prompted my response. At 72 I’m acutely aware of the receding years available and the speed at which they fly by. Fortunately there seems to be a calmness and an acceptance of my ultimate demise, like you I have no real fear of death, only the way in which that could happen.
Having accepted the inevitability of death I guess that it is up to us humans to become better informed about the subject, from the position of the practical aspects, more so from both the spiritual preparation and the opportunity to choose your own time and method of departure. In my general community, I’m constantly surprised at how difficult it is to maintain a social conversation around the subject of death and dying, it’s as though most people rely on the ’system’ to look after the details and the less said the better!
In 1962 when I joined Freemasonry, I was surprised that a large emphasis on their rituals and customs were to do with contemplating our mortality, nearly 50 years later, that teaching has now maintained its relevance for me. Here in Western Australia, some friends and I are engaged in opening discussion and providing an opportunity for 50+yr olds to consider the prospect of preparing for Eldership, and that includes conversations around death and dying.
Many of our contemporaries are somehow content to just fade away when they reach 70, some even before that age, the pursuit of satisfaction (inner peace?) consists largely with travel, having a good time and wanting to cram in those interests that they have not yet pursued. Most of our discussions have clearly indicated a lack of direction and/or support for the concept of conscious ageing, with all that entails. Letting go, detachment, wisdom, blessing, witnessing, creativity and the homecoming of spirit, and finally a respectful and careful journey toward the domains of frailty and dying.
I’m wondering whether there is a conversation around death and dying and how that can be shared?
Blessings
November 11th, 2009 at 11:22 am
Wes Carter was instrumental in my awakening interest in conscious ageing – all those years ago in Western Australia. As you see above, the subject of death and dying has already started the conversation I wanted to have. If you are reading this and have ideas of your own on this hugely important conversation (for or against) – please add your own comments. It would not only be helpful to me and this website, it would also be helpful to many many readers! Of course I do retain the right, as editor, to publish or not.
December 3rd, 2009 at 12:17 am
It is such a shame that, even in this day and age, death is such a taboo subject among the general public. Those who read your pages Persephone are by definition, unusual (I suppose that means me too!). When my husband had a dreadful stroke which affected his speech as well as one side of his body, he managed to make me understand that he wanted me to help him die. I couldn’t do it. I think I was so led into thinking that he might get better by all the “caring professionals” that it seemed unthinkable. He suffered 5 years of struggle and mental deterioration. He was a wordsmith, and to lose the power of speech and any form of writing was clearly a nightmare for him. Erosion of our relationship followed and finally, a long drawn out second stroke and pneumonia was thankfully relieved by morphine. I have left my children in no doubt about how I would like to be treated when I die. I would however fully forgive them if they also found it too difficult to decide for another person, even with such a clear mandate from me.
It is not death but the dying, as several of you have said, that makes me fearful. I don’t believe there is anything beyond death except that my body will return to the earth in ashes. My spirit may be recycled too, but not in my individual form. I certainly hope there is no afterlife with me as me and others as they were, are and will be. I just think that my body will rejoin the earth and my spirit will be recycled into other new people.
However, life is so incredibly beautiful, horrible, exciting, dreadful, fascinating and many other things that, even at 78 and beginning to creak a bit, I certainly don’t want to disappear yet. At least some part of me will continue for a bit in the memories of people I have met, loved, hated and been loved and hated by! Who knows my poetry might even find a little place to resonate with people for a while.