Assisted Dying/Suicide

My take on assisted dying

This is without a doubt, a very controversial subject. I am not here to attempt to force my opinion, or tell you that yours is wrong. I am just sharing a personal experience, and how it has helped me to form my opinion on the matter. I prefer not to use the word suicide, and my use of "assisted dying" is taken from Dignity in Dying, their website is dedicated to this cause.

http://www.dignityindying.org.uk/

I was 23 at the time, working in a care home. For privacy, I will not reveal which care home, or the name of the individual this relates to, but lets call him Joe. 

Joe* was a new resident. He was bed ridden, had a severe lung condition and needed an oxygen tank to survive. He was in a lot of pain, and we tried to welcome him and make him comfortable. 

This is quite a task, when you consider the amount of pain this gentleman is in. He cannot see very well, he cannot breathe on his own, he has bed sores from his time in hospital. Joe cannot reach to scratch an itch, or even sit up to eat and drink. Instead, he has to have his food liquidised and fed to him through a straw, because he has problems with swallowing. 

Joe cannot use his patient alarm, because he can barely see it to reach for it. Instead he shouts, and gets tired and sore. He is using the last of his energy to call out for us. 

Joe really struck a chord with me. I loved all of our residents, even the ones that hit and spit at us, throw their food and much worse at us. But Joe was completely sound of mind, which for me, made it harder.

He hated personal care, he felt embarrassed and ashamed. He had fought for our country, and now he was reduced to this. He felt such an injustice. 

Joe had a lot of tattoos, I would talk to him about them and describe mine to him, he was interested and we laughed about different things. It wouldn't last long though, as Joe would cough and lose the ability to carry on. 

One day, whilst cleaning up a large bed sore and changing Joe's oxygen tubes. He begged us. Myself and my co worker, to end his life. He pleaded with us. He wanted us to stop his oxygen supply. This meant Joe would likely pass away in his sleep. 

You could see from face that it was what he wanted. He wanted us to end his suffering. It made me emotional, I teared up. I explained to him that we were unable to do so, but that we would make things as comfortable for him as possible. He said would do whatever it took to get us out of trouble, if we agreed to do it for him. Myself and my co worker left the room. 

I felt a terrible sense of guilt. I knew that this was what Joe wanted, and I felt awful that after the life he had lived, and the things he had done, he had no say in how it ends. I knew that if he was physically able, he would take his own life. I was conflicted. I lost my friend to suicide, he was 25. Is it any different that I felt he should not have done what he did, but that Joe deserved to? Do I just think this because I see his pain, and because he is elderly? 

Joe asked us again, and he told his family his wishes. We discussed it with them and they all agreed that they knew it would be the right thing to do, if it were legal. They loved him, but they hated seeing him suffer. They hated that Joe was so very aware of his suffering and he was slowly dying. 

My time at the care home ended before Joe's did. I was informed by a friend that Joe passed away, nearly a year later. 

It was the first time I had felt relieved by hearing about a death. I felt so sad that he had gone all those months in agony, and begging anyone that would listen to help him end his life. 

I felt pleased for him that his time was up, and he finally got his wish. I hoped that it was peaceful and he felt contentment. 

Death is an amazing thing. It is the one thing in life that is 100% absolutely certain, and yet, such uncertainty surrounds it. We all know we will lose people in  life, yet it still always breaks our hearts, fills us with sorrow and mourning. 

Would it still be this way, if we had more control? We can choose the way we give birth to our children, we can choose how to live every aspect of our lives. Yet that one guarantee in life, we have no say in. (Apart from suicide, I am referring to being physically unable). 

I am sometimes still undecided, I have seen very ill people, whose family has been contacted to warn them of their relatives impending death, only to watch them make a full recovery. It's a hard one. What do you think? 

I would like to dedicate this post to Joe* - and hope that one day, we can help people like him. 

RIP Joe x