Sadly, dear readers, the Tribune is not yet making the kind of profit that will pay the rent, the school fees and the upkeep on Justin’s Star Trek memorabilia collection. So I have a job out there in the real world where I have to be nice to paying clients.

One of those clients is an aged care facility, I deal with the business end, where they manage the supply contracts and the property maintenance. They’re professional people; they do their jobs so that they too can pay the rent and the school fees. But I’ve done jobs like that before and there is something that feels a little bit good about earning your living and helping the helpless at the same time. So I like them, and in amongst our contract negotiations and costing calculations we chat a bit about the service they provide.

Some aged care homes are more like a resort than a medical facility. The inmates are mostly compos mentis; they have pools and pets, card nights and wine with dinner. They may be a little frail and take a little longer to do the crosswords than they used to, but they haven’t lost their personalities or their faculties. They just need a little help with the day to day stuff, someone to check on them and be there in case of emergencies. For these people getting old is a trial but not a tragedy.

There are thousands of people in old age homes that are not having the gentle fun described above. They’re bed ridden, in wheel chairs, incapacitated and helpless, but even that isn’t the worst of it. So many of them, too many of them, have lost themselves completely. Memories are powerful things. They make us who we are, without them, we become almost nothing. Think about it, if you can’t remember anyone you have ever cared about, if you have no memory of any experience that you ever had, what is left? Yesterday and tomorrow don’t exist and all that is left is a grey today that means nothing. It’s frightening and horrible and there is, at the moment, no cure.

All the people that I spoke to in this business had absolute conviction that this would not ever happen to them. Not wishful thinking, there-but-for-the-grace-of-God stuff, but a firm I-have-the-solution-in-a-syringe-in-the-drawer decision.

It’s something I thought about a lot while struggling with the whole giving up smoking debacle. If I stop smoking I might live another 15 years, but if those 15 years are spent in the grey twilight of Alzheimer’s in a nursing home then I don’t want them. I’d rather a sudden, or even a painful and drawn out death, while I’m still me than that. I’d rather be mourned, and remembered with love and laughter, than become a burden of guilt and tragedy to the people I used to love.

The problem is that it’s not that easy. I can make that decision now, while I’m still (mostly) in full possession of my faculties, but it’s not something I can ask someone else to decide for me when I’ve gone ga-ga. So when do I pull the syringe out of the drawer? If I’m still fully capable of making that choice then it’s too early. If I’m not capable then it’s too late. So what do I do? Do I ask my husband or children to risk prosecution and imprisonment for following my wishes? Is it fair to put that burden of guilt on them? It’s not a choice I would ever want to have to make for my parents, so how can I ask someone else to do it for me? But what is the alternative; do I miss out on time with them so I can take that step on my own?

If I spend a lifetime saving and accumulating some small wealth what happens to it when I get old and too lost to find any joy in it? Are my children obliged to drain it all away supporting me as I stare at a wall day after day? That is not what I want, after I’ve had my fun with it I want them to take what I’ve earned and use it to make their lives better and easier.

Euthanasia is currently still a crime in Australia (although it happens, quietly and without fanfare, far more often than most people realise) and there are good reasons for that. Who gets to decide who should live and who should die? What happens to the people who don’t want to die, but are aware that they are increasingly a burden on those around them, is the pressure on them to make that choice too much if euthanasia is an option? Where do you draw the line? Is it just mental incapacity? What about physical or even psychological incapacity? What happens to the people who don’t have someone around who can or will make that choice for them? What about the ones whose heirs have a financial incentive to put an end to them?

Difficult questions all, and sadly, I don’t think there is an answer you can legislate that will work for everyone. What I do believe though, is that I should be allowed to make that choice for myself. Not for anyone else, but just for me.

While I am still young and capable I want the right to leave clear instructions for what is to happen to me if I am no longer able to make clear choices. I want to leave absolute clarity for my children so that there is no burden of guilt for them to carry. I do not want to have years of existence with no life. If Alzheimer’s or dementia overtakes me I want a dignified and gentle death, supervised by qualified medical staff in a way that leaves my children able to mourn me and then move on with their own lives.

I think that most people would want this, but anyone who doesn’t should also be free to say so, and leave those instructions in a clear, unambiguous way.

Let’s take it out from behind closed doors and put it where it should be: out in the open where everyone can see it and know what the choices are. Give me a form to fill in and sign before witnesses. If I don’t sign the form then I didn’t make that choice and every effort should be taken to care for me while there is still breath in my body. But I do not want that choice taken away from me by overly moralistic governments, kowtowing to a sanctimonious minority religious group that think they have the right to dictate how my life and death should go.

Death with dignity and a right to life with choices are not areas for government bureaucracy and lobby groups for vocal minorities to be mucking about in. Back off and let us make that choice for ourselves.

+ 1

+ 1