Take this cup away from me…

I’ve just watched the program “Terry Pratchett: Choosing to Die”. It showed a man with some nasty illness taking his life by drinking poison. Yes, that’s right, folks, drinking poison.

And this poison did not do what it said on the tin. Dignitas, in Switzerland, claims they provide a painless dignified death. I beg to differ.

It didn’t look peaceful, or pain-free, at all. This poor man was asking and grabbing for water in a desperate manner while he could still speak and move. His last words were “water, water”. He was held back by the Dignitas woman. Then he made horrible gurgling noises. I reckon the stuff was burning his gut. She said he was snoring, but it sounded like a death rattle. He seemed more disabled by the effect of the poison than to be ‘going to sleep’ as advertised. It was horrific.

If a dog can be given a lethal injection that simply knocks them out, why can’t people? This man should have been sedated, or even put under anaesthetic, then injected. Then his last words would have been to his wife, his last action to hold her hand.

I’m sure these people died before they needed or even wanted to, because to do the deed they still had to be capable of self-administering the lethal dose. If they knew that someone else would be able to help them if they couldn’t do it, I think they would have stuck around longer. They seemed so alive, so intelligent, so likable. Perhaps I spend too long in nursing homes seeing people in far worse condition, but they seemed to have so much worthwhile life to lead. Especially a younger guy who was there on the same mission, who rather wistfully said he’d really loved Zurich and wanted to see more of it, but… he’d set the date, and that was it.

But the most disturbing aspect was the comment made when they were saying goodbye to the young guy, and they shook hands, and he said something like “See you on the other side”. What other side?? I wonder how much a belief in an afterlife drives the willingness to die. What part does religion play in this? Replay the death scene with prayers and priest and affirmation of afterlife and meeting again and heaven, and see if there’s something seriously wrong with this picture.

This life-or-death decision happened to someone I know. Finding herself suddenly facing life in a wheelchair, she told me it might be best if she died because Jesus was waiting to welcome her into Heaven. There she was in a spinal unit hospital bed, with all the trappings, literally, and she would have died if she’d given up. I told her that as far as I was concerned, Jesus wasn’t there, God wasn’t there, if she cashed her chips in now, that was it, the end. No, she would never see her family again, no she would never do anything again. That’s what dead is. She said she didn’t believe that, but when I said, but, what if I’m right? she hesitated. She hesitated enough. Doubt crept in and saved her. Jesus didn’t save her, doubt saved her.