Medical Aid in Dying

In 1999 my father was diagnosed with gastroesophageal cancer. He had a steadfast, almost religious, belief in the power of Western medicine and specifically of doctors. He went through radiation, chemo, and scores of tests, and against the mounting evidence of metastases, continued to believe that he would get better. When he was finally hospitalized on a sunny December morning, he thought he was going to get better. We all knew he wasn't. The worst part was this disconnect, the denial, the defiance of death. It meant we couldn't be real, say real things, properly say goodbye.

My mother watched all this, ragged from months of hospital trips, sleepless nights, and a tooth abscess, and decided this wasn't how she wanted to go.

Twenty-six years later, she availed herself of Maine's Medical Aid in Dying law, Death with Dignity. She had survived stage-three colon cancer and lived for a long time with heart disease, which throughout the summer worsened. When she was told the end was near, she jumped into palliative care and hospice and, once offered, into the Death With Dignity option. The speed with which the decision was taken and the series of events that ensued were somewhat stunning to us, her children, but we were united in our respect of her wishes.

This is obviously not for everyone, but our mother's determination, courage, and ice-cold clarity made it very easy for us, her children and grandchildren, to support her.  The process itself -- getting sign-offs from two physicians, signing a witnessed statement that this was what she wanted, picking up the medications -- was seamless (if a bit surreal), giving her (and thus, us) a peaceful, painless death with nothing but relief for her -- everyone in the room felt it. The fact that there was an appointed date meant loved ones could travel even from overseas to be there. Caz the volunteer was amazing: empathic, gentle, present but no more than needed. 

If you're thinking of this as a possible end for you: a) learn as much as you can, especially about what dying in hospital actually means; b) be very clear in your understanding; c) convey your wishes in a clear way to your loved ones; d) be clear about who you'd like to be present, and especially, who you'd like not to be (appoint a gatekeeper). If you have the inclination, write your own obituary (a good time to update it is every year on your birthday).