My lovely dad died last Wednesday.
He had had a degenerative illness rather like motor neurone disease and in 18 months had gone from an active person to one who, last weekend, could only move one finger. He could talk well and was completely mentally alert. He knew that he was likely to eventually die from a related condition and had started to suffer from inceasingly worse chest infections as he had no muscle strength in his torso to allow him to cough.
He became ill last weekend and was admitted to hospital on Monday last week with pneumonia. Dad knew that if he recovered from this bout he would only get it again very soon. He had had one night (Saturday) when he felt he would choke as he was so chesty and was very frightened but when we suggested hospital to him he agreed straight away. I am convinced this is because he had made up his mind that he wanted to die.
By Tuesday morning when I saw him it was clear he was struggling. He asked me if he could be allowed to go to sleep and then made it very clear that he did not want to wake up as he had had enough.
As soon as he said that I knew it was the right thing for dad. I didn't feel anything other than a determination to act as his advocate and ask for him to be allowed to die. I had a meeting with the doctor and nurse as soon as I could and I told them what dad had said. They completed respected dad's wishes and took him off the antibiotics. He was later given morphine on a constant pump which calmed him down and allowed him to rest at last.
All of Tuesday afternoon he woke occasionally, asked me to move his mask so he could talk and each time he asked me 'how much longer?' Dh and I stayed with him throughout and he smiled at us or winked from time to time. By 3am Weds he was fully unconscious and very very peaceful.
At 5.15pm he died with us holding his hand.
The nurse told us how lovely it had been for dad to have had a say in his own death and the fact he was allowed to just slip away. It was absolutely what he wanted and I am only sorry that he had had to be so uncomfortable and scared for a while after being admitted.
We wish that he had never become ill with that cruel and horrible condition in the first place, but he did. He never complained throughout the illness despite being robbed of his mobility, his diginity and the life he loved. But by last Tuesday he had decided that enough was enough and he was lucky enough to be allowed to die in the way he wanted. I know not everyone has the ability to do this, but I would argue very strongly for assisted suicide in cases such as dad's and the chap in Terry Prachett's film. We're lucky that we didn't need to argue to dad to be allowed to die as he was already very poorly by then, but I have since found out (from his favourite carer) that he had told her he wished he had gone 6 months ago before he had had to lose every part of his mobility and had suffered from so many chest infections.